


Interlude (Turn of the Century France)

by MAVEfm



Series: Le Velo Pour Deux [4]
Category: Against Me!, Fall Out Boy, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: 2005, Alternate Universe - A Little Less Sixteen Candles (Music Video), Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Norse Religion & Lore, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Magic, Demonic Possession, Demons, Gen, Texas, Urban Fantasy, Witches, okay.... you'll LOVE this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 12:30:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 48,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20693561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MAVEfm/pseuds/MAVEfm
Summary: With Patrick trailing behind him wrapped in chains and snarling his way across America, Pete seeks out a savior in his old friend Bebe Rhexa, who points him in the direction of a town called Eden, Texas. There, he meets a local witch puzzled by a demon possession, a family of lycanthropes with strange secrets, and he makes a deal that could change his life forever.





	Interlude (Turn of the Century France)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!! It's finally here!! This one went through a rewrite and I am so happy with how it turned out and I hope you love it as much as me. This one introduces some HUGE plot-related things and honestly its just a good time so enjoy!!! This one is shorter, and think of it as a nice check-in with our favorite bastard: Pete Wentz and his road trip across America with his kidnapee: Patrick Stump

* * *

** _The God Problem_ **

* * *

Pete had been smart enough to avoid major cities, skirting Bloomington to avoid Peoria because he’d had ‘friends’ in Peoria. Dragging his feet past St. Louis and robbing gas stations until Lebanon, Missouri, when the gas station happened to be managed by some Chimera looking asshole who spit venom and chased him out. 

Gas stations made him jumpy after that.

Especially since the venom had almost gotten to Patrick.

He had started ripping out the backs of vending machines after that, stuffing his wallet and detouring in a town called Clever.

He strengthened his chains in Little Flock, Arkansas, and slept in a barn outside Springtown.

Fayetteville passed and he was dehydrated, Patrick nipping at his heels until he tied him to a tree and raided a hospital, snarling at dealers who tried to get him to pay.

Patrick was called his ‘pet’ in McAlester, Oklahoma, and it took all of Pete’s willpower not to start a fight with a group of Land Wights that had been generous enough to give him directions.

It seemed Oklahoma would stretch on forever.

He hated it.

It was too hot, even at night, he could feel the sun linger. Bugs clung to him, sticking to his clothes and buzzing around his ears. Patrick batted at them, snarling this unearthly sound that Pete felt he could go deaf from hearing. He seemed to be sending them Pete’s way, and they’d shared a few stare downs and push fights on the way.

The chains kept him bound, but he lagged behind Pete, hating to move whenever Pete woke and barely bothering to walk just a little faster to catch up and start a fight.

Pete didn’t like looking at him, too guilty and too afraid that he would change more.

More than just gold eyes and teeth, and claws that mirrored Pete’s.

Pete had started so many fires and set up too many campgrounds during their 300-hour walk, so many it had become second nature. Ditching the wilderness survival guide and finding his own methods, catching squirrels without a glance and crushing them with his black claws.

Patrick ate anything Pete threw at him, tearing open bags of chips, stolen gas station hot dogs, yogurt parfaits, junk food to rabbit food, and the manufactured goods and the squirrels Pete couldn’t finish. 

He justified that by figuring the teeth meant he was something close to a vampire, and the fact that Patrick would lick his fingers when he was done.

Durant, Oklahoma was their fourth big fight.

They’d had many, spread out across rural America and their many campfires. Spats without words.

Pete didn’t think he’d spoken out loud since entering Oklahoma, the air was so heavy and filled with a bad taste. Maybe it was Dark Magic, Hocus Pocus, making him angry and restless and thirstier than he should be.

Patrick was louder and growled more often, so Pete had led him through a forest of thick underbrush just to spite him. Then he had found a tree with such sticky bark that he thought the insides must be just sap and nothing else.

He tied Patrick next to it and built a fire as the sun rose. Patrick paced, the ground smoldering under each step, they’d been lucky he hadn’t started a forest fire yet.

Maybe it was the atmosphere, bad Oklahoma energy, something evil just settling underneath the dirt they were trying to rest on. Patrick was easy to anger, pulling against his chains and clawing at Pete a mere four feet away.

Pete was too tired to care, sitting back against the tree and staring back with a blank expression. 

For once he didn’t feel guilty, watching Patrick struggle, the snarky teenager replaced with this monstrosity with yellow eyes and smoke flowing from his mouth at all hours.

Pete threw a small nut at his forehead, “Shut up.”

Patrick yelled and twisted.

He was dirty and his clothes were ripped, having gone so long without a shower, and he wouldn’t let Pete close to try and wrestle him into new clothes.

“Shut up, Lunchbox.”

Patrick bared his teeth and Pete bared his right back, a little jealous that even Patrick’s molars had sharpened from the curse.

Patrick strained and finally tripped, falling flat on his face and Pete laughed.

Then almost hit himself for it when Patrick’s nose came up bloody.

“Oh, fuck-!”

Patrick grabbed him when he reached forward and he was hot to the touch, cold, like tap water, and when Pete wrenched himself away his skin was red.

“Jackass! I want to help you!”

Patrick roared back, face twisted in rage.

“It’s not my fault!” Pete snapped, “You’re the fucked up one here, not me!”

Patrick spat and rubbed at his face, smearing blood. His nose had turned purple, but it was slowly fading, healing faster than Pete might have been. 

“I’m trying to help you!”

Patrick sneezed and growled under his breath and Pete shuffled in place.

The air was hot and heavy, clinging to his clothes and his skin.

“All you’ve done is be a jerk about everything,” Pete huffed, “I wish I’d never met you, I should have just let Luke take me in to get Ashed.”

Patrick sat down heavily, facing away from Pete.

“Like that’s gonna solve anything,” Pete scoffed, “Idiot.”

He curled up when Patrick didn’t respond, his head resting on the forest floor as the sun trekked across the sky.

They both slept, fitful, and Pete dreamed he was standing back in Patrick’s house, the street lamps barely shining through the blinds.

Anthony’s body lay whole on the carpet.

In the dark, Pete could ignore the gruesome details, the empty eyes. 

In the dream, he moved slowly, looking at Patrick in his bloody gardening gloves. The light flickered, and Pete was speaking to him through an echo chamber, his own voice making him feel warm. 

Anthony was in pieces in a blink, and Patrick was holding the shears aloft, his eyes yellow and clouded. He was serene, ready, and he brought the shears down and into Pete’s chest.

When Pete gasped awake, sweating cold, Patrick was staring at him.

“I-” His voice shook, and he took a few deep breaths, “I didn’t even… I didn’t know, I-I Influenced you.”

Patrick stared.

“I’m so sorry, Trick,” Pete wiped his eyes somewhat discreetly, not knowing if Patrick could even understand him or not, “I’m so sorry, I made you do all those things-”

Patrick growled and Pete clasped his hands together, “I told you I’d make this right, but I’ve only made it worse, Trick, I’m so sorry-”

Patrick suddenly roared, standing up and grabbing his chains, pulling so hard the tree cracked under the weight, cutting into the bark.

Pete buried his face in his hands, letting Patrick yell and scream until the coyotes yelled back and his voice went hoarse.

The sun had set, and Patrick was too tired to reach for Pete as he undid the chains and put the fire out. He was too tired to even walk at first, letting Pete use his strength to drag him across the ground. 

But only for a little while, until the ground became rough and scratchy.

Then he walked slowly behind, trailing like a rabid dog, slow and deliberate. Pete didn’t really care, knowing he wouldn’t try anything when he was so ornery.

They found a road and Pete let it lead him back to corporate America.

A Target Shopping Center. 

Maybe the fluorescent lights had healing capabilities because he felt a weight lifted just by seeing them. 

Or maybe it was the thought of seeing processed food again that made him happier.

Either way.

He limped across the parking lot without blinking and tied Patrick dutifully to the bike rack.

Only a few cars were left, rushing in and out before close. Pete thought about how Patrick might look to the Sightless, a dude standing around? Or maybe something more embarrassing.

He watched Patrick pick at the metal and rubber for just a moment before making his way inside.

The white tile and rows upon rows made the store seem endless, everything serving to catch his eye on bright colors and buzzwords. He pondered the makeup section and its vast array of liquid and pencil eyeliner, then onto the eyeshadow samples cracking out of their containers. He pocketed a peach and stole a glance at the bakery before wandering down aisles and aisles of chips and crackers and dip. 

He ransacked the place as politely as he could.

With his arms full of snacks, he caught the disdainful eye of a soccer mom in the freezer aisle. He attempted a smile and she grimaced, turning away just as fast and Pete had to roll his eyes, taking a look at the microwave dinners.

He’d never owned a watch, but the store closed at 9 and announced over the intercom before chiming a happy tune. Pete sighed and wondered how he could smuggle the snacks out with only his thin jacket and skinny jeans.

The lights flickered when he started to jam Doritos into his pants and the tune chimed again.

The soccer mom dropped her grocery basket with a smack and he tensed, expecting her to yell at him as he turned around to see what had happened.

But she was only staring at him blankly.

“Um,” He said. “Sorry.”

She didn’t respond.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Pete grimaced, not particularly enjoying the energy she was giving off.

She stepped forward, and a few snack bags fell out of his arms as he flattened himself against the freezer door.

Then, she walked past him, dead to the world.

Pete blinked, then leaned out to watch her walk in a haze to the Exit doors, followed by a few other shoppers with the same blank expression, pupils blown and mouths agape. Pete tore open a few chip bags and ate anxiously. “Okay.”

The intercom chimed again and this time the voice that spoke was deeper, crackling against the microphone. It was too muffled to understand, and the feedback made Pete wince.

The cashiers were leaving.

Pete panicked for about a microsecond, stepping quickly until he saw new cashiers take their place almost instantly. “Okay, whiplash,” He blinked, centering himself and going down another aisle for toilet paper, and toward the meat counter. The sight of an unbothered customer let him breathe, but the blank-faced chef behind the counter bore a striking resemblance to the one he had just seen exiting with the rest of the cashiers. “Um,” He gulped, and the customer whipped around to stare as the chef packaged a sirloin. His eyes were red and his pupils rectangular, Pete dropped the rest of his snacks in shock, “Sorry.”

He made his way back around, pulling clothes off the line and trying to rationalize, getting caught in a brief hissing match with another vampire when he failed to look where he was going. The intercom went off regularly, announcing things in a croaking language or simply inquiring about cars in the parking lot. At one point a soft voice gave a weather report for somewhere that probably wasn’t Oklahoma.

He made his way to check-out fully prepared to Influence the poor nineteen-year-old at the register.

Until the kid opened his mouth and said: “⇉🝄🝖🝖▞-”

Pete felt extremely close to tears, “What?” 

“▰◐⋙◹◒▞,” The cashier frowned, “▞◍⊿.”

Pete tapped his fingers anxiously on his thigh, glancing outside and trying to see Patrick. “How are you doing that with your mouth?”

“Pete!” 

Pete jumped and someone clapped him on the back.

“Bitch! I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Bebe!” Pete melted, feeling a thousand times better, “Oh thank god.”

She smiled, her hair was dyed a light blue, and she’d gotten a few piercings since the last time he’d seen her. “Damn, girl, you look you got ran over by a truck.”

He smiled, “Kind of… Um, do you know how to…” He pointed at the register.

“You’re lucky I got paid,” Bebe patted his arm, “And that I’m so happy to see you, loser.” She smiled at the cashier, who smiled, robotically, back. She dug in her pockets and dumped a few bronze coins onto the counter and the cashier smiled again, hungry. “It’s just an old god attaching itself to the place, they get the Sightless out at a certain time, and people like us can give offerings of any kind.”

“So what is this guy like… fake?”

“A physical manifestation,” Bebe wiggled her fingers at him, then punched him in the arm, “So what the fuck are you doing here, man? I barely hear from you and now you’re here in Oklahoma?”

Pete watched the manifestation bag his new clothes and snacks, “I was actually looking for you, and… here you are.”

She snorted, shrugging, “What are the chances? I needed some spices, plus they have those fresh flowers that help me make it look like I have my apartment together.”

She led him to the door, “But seriously, dude, what are you doing here? Oklahoma is a vacuum of magic, you have to be feeling like shit.”

“Yeah,” Pete rubbed at the sleep in his eyes, “I need your help.” 

Bebe quirked an eyebrow and Pete stuffed his hands in his pockets, “Let me just... show you.”

* * *

** _Open Hours:_ **

** _6 AM to 9 PM Mon. through Fri._ **

** _7 AM to 8 PM Sat. through Sun._ **

▰◐🝖⋙◹▞◍⊿▢≻◼️▼⊷៷⊗

  * **_**_Business Hours for the local Target Store, accompanied by some incomprehensible gobbledygook. _**_**

* * *

“Oh wow,” Bebe stared, slightly rattled, “It’s like he’s rabid or something.”

“I hope not,” Pete winced, knowing rabies was pretty much deadly.

Patrick swiped at her outstretched hand and she jumped, pulling it back close to her chest. “Damn!”

“So… Can you help me?” Pete shuffled in one place, “Or, him, I guess.”

Patrick pulled against the chains, clanging against the bike rack. Pete wondered what he’d do if Patrick managed to wrestle it out of the cement. He hadn’t seen Patrick really attack anything before, besides himself, but his eyes were glowing bright gold, brighter than usual, and the ground sizzled where he stepped.

Pete had been relieved that it didn’t seem to harm his shoes.

“You said a warlock did this?” Bebe asked, taking flash pictures with her phone, Pete leaned in to get a better look.

“Yeah, hey I didn’t know phones could do that.”

“Get with the times,” She smirked, then showed him the pictures. A washed-out Patrick with messy strawberry hair and glowing eyes, the flash had disoriented him, so he looked bewildered in most of them. Pete snorted, ignoring Patrick’s snarling as he batted at the air in front of him. 

“Is there a way to send those to me?”

“Do you have an email?”

“No.”

Bebe smacked him, “You’re old, seriously,” She pocketed the phone, “But you said a warlock?”

Pete nodded and she sighed, thinking.

“Okay, so… what I’m getting here is,” She gestured at Patrick, “Your friend, who-oh my _ god _ , it’s the _ kid on the TV _ .” She smacked him again, upside the head, _ “Jackass!” _

“Ow! Bebe!” Pete rubbed at his face.

“You kidnapped this kid?!”

“No! I swear!” Pete showed her his palms, “I was protecting him! And then-!” He gave a strangled noise and pointed at him, “-Look!”

“Dear _ God, _ Pete, half the country is looking for this dingus! What did you _ do?” _

“I killed a guy named Anthony! And then his stupid brother tried to get me back! So he tossed a spell at me and it hit Patrick! But, uh, don’t worry about him, I think he turned into smoke.”

Bebe screwed her face into a heavy grimace, Patrick sneered alongside her.

“Everything you just said?” She waved a hand at him, “Was crazy.”

“I just want to get him home,” Pete almost begged, “But his mom, _ no one _, can see him like this, I don’t even know if it’s him, or-or something-”

“Pete,” She stopped, “You know, I’ll always have your back.”

Pete nodded.

“This is some serious shit,” She gestured to Patrick again, “If it’s from a Warlock, it’s alchemic in nature, but on top of that, it’s dark,” She put a hand on his shoulder, “Dark, and mixed with something else, possibly even Summons Magic, blood magic, it’s heavy… And it’s not my expertise.”

Pete deflated.

“So you can’t help.”

She gave him a soft look, “No.”

Patrick scratched at his face, growling at nothing.

“But,” She grabbed her phone again, “I can check the Coven, there’s gotta be someone who can.” Pete nodded, tearful. She nodded back, smiling encouragement.

“My place is within walking distance, and hey, on the way,” She grabbed his hand and cradled his fingers to look at his nails, “You can tell me how you got these puppies.”

* * *

_ Frog eyes _

_ Yogurt _

_ Basil _

_ Goat horn shavings (blessed) _

_ Cereal _

_ Lavender (bulk) _

_ Chips _

_ Thyme _

** _-Bebe Rhexa’s shopping list, Durant, Oklahoma, 2005_ **

* * *

“That’s insane,” Bebe commented when he’d finished the story, “No wonder you had to run…” She locked the door behind them and set her grocery bags down on the counter, “I mean I’ve heard of different blood types have different effects, like you know drinking another vampire’s blood is poison unless it's from your Patron, or how Dead Blood makes you _ slow-” _

“And how lycan’s blood gives me claws that never go away, apparently,” Pete huffed, guiding Patrick to the corner by pushing him back with his foot. He was breathing heavily, and Pete weighed his options of pouring water into a bowl or just giving him the open bottle.

“Probably just some wolfish DNA mingled with yours,” Bebe didn’t seem too concerned at the crude science, “Maybe you can figure out how to make them shift away.”

Pete gave her a doubting look and she waved him off, “Whatever, take a seat, I’ll jump onto Coven.”

She explained on the way that the Coven was an exclusive message board on the internet, witches only. Pete barely touched computers but nodded anyway.

Her apartment was new, Pete noted, but the furniture and decor were still familiar from when he’d last seen her. Same purple couch and hanging crystals, she was cultivating some flowers by the window and wicker lawn chairs surrounded her kitchen table. A lot of it reminded Pete of the local Chicago witch. Maybe they all had the same taste in design.

“I have a few takers!” She yelled and Patrick barked back. “A few questions, from all over, um… Does he still eat?”

“All the time,” Pete answered, “Like a vampire too, he can eat stuff raw and not get sick.”

A long silence followed, and Pete could hear the click of her computer mouse and the tapping of her keyboard

“Does he-” She paused, “Do mosquitoes come out of his mou-_ um... _ Never mind.”

“Uh, no.” Pete gave Patrick a suspicious look as if he would suddenly choose that exact moment to unhinge his jaw and release the mosquitos.

“Okay!” Bebe came back, brushing her fingers through her hair, “There’s one girl that might be able to help, and she’s close, down in Texas, just think if I was still in Arkansas, you’d probably die before you got there.”

She looked Patrick up and down, “Did you even try to get him clean?”

“He doesn’t really care,” Pete shrugged, “I can’t shove him into a shower, I kinda just have to use a hose when I find one… So you said Texas?”

“You really suck at going on the run,” Bebe led him to the kitchen to shove some leftovers at him, “And yeah, a place called Eden, but she’s popular, said she’s helping out a family of lycans, but if you can’t pay, she said if you can act as an assistant, she’s willing to give you a pass.”

Pete breathed a sigh of relief, shoving the cold food into the microwave, “I can’t borrow a car by chance?”

“No way,” Bebe tsked, “I saved up a lot of money to get that CRV, there’s no way I’m gonna let you abandon it on the side of the road after it runs out of gas,” She smiled, “You can take a bus.”

“A bus?” Pete almost choked, “With _ him?” _

Patrick snarled from the other room.

“I don’t see why not,” Bebe shrugged, “You are a vampire, aren't you? Doesn’t that mean you’re naturally super strong? Just… Hold him against the window, I could even give you something to make him sleep.”

Pete leaned against the counter, pretending to give it a lot of thought as the microwave beeped.

“Well…” He ran his fingers through a small puddle of water on the counter, “I have been doing a lot of walking…”

Bebe slapped her palm against the counter and Patrick barked a few times, “I’ll grab the address, no doubt you can Influence your way to a ticket.”

“Yeah,” Pete nodded, doubt and anxiety crawling at his edges, “No doubt.”

* * *

_ Fuck you bebe skank, you always get the coolest cases _

_ Wish i lived in Oklahoma, heard it was a vacuum _

  * __SuperW1tchyB1tchy__

_ Luv u! Miss u!! Come back to Brazil soon!! _

  * __CandidC4t895__

_ Thanks 4 the Tips!!! _

  * __GreenWitch1967__

_ Do u think u could help me with this?? → _

_ attachment: file.43547320 _

_ -m4d4yparadeloveandlust7 _

  * **_**_Personal messages sent to Bebe Rhexa over several exclusive message boards, Durant, Oklahoma, 2005_**_**

* * *

No doubt that the sedative wouldn’t work.

Pete was crushing Patrick against the carpeted walls of a Greyhound bus for almost six hours until he grew tired, slouching against the window and snoring loudly as Pete rolled his shoulders and locked eyes with a girl a few seats down. She had red eyes, and they exchanged a nod.

The ride was much longer than Bebe had predicted.

Amazingly, no one really noticed Patrick when he was awake, the Sightlessness of the other passengers was saving his ass in a way that he didn’t know was possible. When he was asleep, Pete could hold conversations with the old ladies in the seats close by and they would comment on how sweet he was to his challenged friend or little brother. Pete took their complements because they didn’t seem backhanded and he really needed the validation. 

The sun rose and Pete had to pull up the screen and press against Patrick, annoyed that he was still trying to get loose from the binds around his chest.

They arrived in Eden after hours and hours of nothing but sitting. Pete felt flattened and stiff, his lips dry and his clothes scratching at him.

Patrick was uncharacteristically silent.

The problem was the sun.

Out in full force, and he didn’t ask for an umbrella back in Oklahoma.

He let the bus clear out before him, waving goodbye to the old ladies and glancing nervously at the heat waves rolling off the pavement outside.

“Travel not your strong suit?”

Pete flinched and turned to look at the woman from the beginning of the trip, her red eyes shining. She was dressed for comfort, sweatpants and her dark hair pulled into something loose. She was obviously older than him, ancient, and frozen in time. Pete straightened to offer her respect because of it, reminding himself of what Jack or Max did for him back in Chicago. Respect your elders.

“You’re a vampire,” Pete swallowed, relieved.

“And you kidnapped that kid.” She pointed at Patrick without much of a reaction, “I’m gonna guess it wasn’t because you wanted blood from the way you hold him.”

Pete nodded, “No, it wasn’t.”

She hummed, “Name’s Sandra.”

“Pete.”

She regarded him like he was her little brother, obviously appreciating his respect, “I’m not gonna be in Eden for long, just grabbing a friend and moving on,” She dug in her bag, “Lot of big things going on, all these Freshies running around…” She pulled an umbrella out of her bag, black and classic looking, “Walk with me.”

Pete nodded, grateful, “Thank you, ma’am.”

He held Patrick close, worried the restraints would come off as a leash and the thought put an uncomfortable rock in Pete’s gut.

So they held hands.

Pete had forgotten that Patrick had claws of his own, so their fingers were locked in a strange and pokey battle of strength. He tried to bite at Pete, and for the first time since they had first met, Pete gave him a pushing glance loaded with silent Influence. Patrick snarled, nonplussed, but ceased biting him all the same.

Sandra allowed him in close under her umbrella but didn’t wait up for him, so his gait became an almost frenzied skip.

“Thank you,” Pete kept repeating, looking out for any stray bits of the sun as they crossed into the bus station, “You didn’t have to.”

“No, but it’s only right,” She said, leading him to the gift shop, “Find your umbrella, sunglasses too.”

“And you won’t tell anyone about-?”

“As long as he’s not yours for keeping,” Sandra gave him a hard look, “Association Law is a bit of a hobby of mine, as is _ our _ code, which you have shown to be familiar with.” She glanced at Patrick wolfing down a stolen packet of beef jerky, “He isn’t, is he?”

“No,” Pete shook his head, “No, ma’am… he’s just… cursed?”

“Good, and I’m glad you know to respect those who outdate you,” She smiled kindly, “Seems lately, the code isn’t second nature anymore…” She trailed off and gave him a once over, “Eden is a small town, get some new clothes, lay low and for god’s sake get an umbrella.”

“Definitely, thank you, Sandra,” Pete licked his lips, “Do you know you’re way around at all?”

“What are you lookin’ for?”

Pete patted his pockets and retrieved the note Bebe had written for him, “This witch that can help ‘Trick… She’s supposed to be here, her name is Laura Jane Grace?”

* * *

_ Hope this dude isn’t some dick, Bebe _

  * __TeenAnarchy17__

_ LOL he’s a loser :P but soo cute you’ll love him ;D _

_ -CalluMine _

  * **_**_Brief exchange between friends on a private witch’s message board, 2005_**_**

* * *

Sandra had rented a truck big enough for Patrick to squirrel away into the trunk, and Pete tucked himself into the passenger seat, exhausted.

He had Influenced his way into getting a cheap plastic umbrella not fifteen minutes earlier at the station, along with a pair of sunglasses that might have been too big for his face. He’d also gotten Patrick a new trucker hat that he accepted begrudgingly.

“He’s quiet,” Sandra commented, eyeing him in the rearview mirror.

“He’s been getting like that,” Pete wrung his hands,”I still don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

Then Sandra dropped him off in front of a trailer park.

“I still don’t know how to thank you,” Pete huddled under his umbrella as Patrick kicked the grass by the fence. 

“Just don’t make me have to find you,” Sandra looked at him over the tops of her own sunglasses, “Some people out there breaking a lot of the ancient code, bad stuff happening all over and that damn Guild thinks it can get a handle.” She sighed, “Just keep your ass in line, call me if you ever need serious help.” She gestured to his note, which now held Sandra’s phone number written in purple gel pen.

“But,” Pete blinked, “You don’t even know me.”

“It’s kinda my job,” Sandra put her car in gear, “I’ve been around a long ass time, Pete, I have a responsibility.”

A few more goodbyes and she was gone.

Pete turned back to the trailer park, silent and ringing with the sound of wind chimes. He fingered the small note and scanned the mobile homes, desperately hoping she would step outside and see him..

The trailer park was silent, save for a few dogs barking, it was too hot for anyone to spend too much time outside. It gave Pete a small sense of security knowing no one would see him and a missing teenage boy bound by a chain, some rope, and some duct tape.

Each trailer had its address displayed out front, all handmade signs that corresponded to the large mailbox just down the street. Bebe had told him he would know the place when he saw it, but even then she might have over-exaggerated. Each trailer was pretty much the same, with the cutesy small fences and lawn gnomes and beach chairs. Pete wondered if there was some sort of homeowner association dedicated to keeping the aesthetic alive.

Patrick kept his distance from Pete as they searched, growling at plastic flamingos and swiping at umbrellas that tilted too close. His claws left slash marks in the nylon and Pete pretended that he didn’t notice so legally he couldn’t be held responsible.

Toward the back, Pete realized that Bebe might have right.

The trailer in question was tucked in between two totally normal ones, decked out like they were living the Suburban American Dream in a mobile home. They were so normal looking that Pete almost hadn’t seen the trailer in the middle.

This one’s garden was real, wild and growing green and healthy, not bound by a tiny fence. Ivy grew up the vinyl siding and a Desert Willow grew from behind and reached over the roof of the mobile home, thinly shading the property. Besides the garden, there was an expensive-looking grill close to the patio and Pete could spy a large Ford truck parked just behind the house.

It must have been magic because he was having a difficult time looking directly at it.

He gave Patrick a tug and maneuvered him around the flowers and herbs growing over the small dirt path to the front door.

He landed one solid knock and the door squeaked open.

The woman in front of him contrasted completely with her house, dressed in metal and black and finishing off a can of Ice Tea. Her hair was a bit of a nest, caught in the tangles and trailing past her shoulders. 

She looked tired and Pete read her name off the note one more time.

“You’re… Laura Jane Grace?”

She leaned out the door as he spoke, following the trail of rope in Pete’s hand to Patrick just a few feet away, making a mess in the dirt of her garden. Pete blushed on the real Patrick’s behalf.

“Yeah…” She frowned, “And you’re Pete, right?”

“That’s Patrick,” Pete nodded.

“Does he bite?”

“All the time.”

Laura Jane paused, licking her lips and nodding, “Do you let him off the chains?”

“I don’t think I’d be able to get him back in,” Pete scratched at his neck, embarrassed, “He really tore into me when I tried the first time, I didn’t know if he could heal, so I kind of let him beat me up.”

“Well,” She began, sympathetic, “It’s nice to meet you both anyway, I’ve been hearing about him on the news,” She nodded at Patrick, “At least he wasn’t turned or anything, you know vampires.”

“Yeah… vampires, I wouldn’t have brought him on the run if that happened,” Pete avoided her gaze, “But Bebe said you could help me?”

“For a fee,” Laura answered, “Warlock curses and demonic stuff like this is kind of my area, not that I would classify this as demonic, you’d know if it was.”

“Great,” Pete felt a few more pounds drop from his shoulders, “Could we come in? I have issues with the sun.”

“Oh, yeah-” Laura faltered, finally giving him a look, she flushed, “Oh.”

She offered her hand, “Here, I’ll get him in and let him sit out back, it’s shaded so he won’t get sunburned,” She screwed up her face, cringing, “Just-uh, ignore the whole ‘you know vampires’ I didn’t mean anything-”

Pete snorted, finally finding safety in the trailer, “I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

Laura kept her focus on Patrick, wrapping the rope around his arms as he got close, Pete winced, “He hasn’t been violent lately, but don’t-”

Patrick suddenly roared, launching himself forward at Laura and pulling on his chains. She jumped out of the way as he crashed into her house and into the wall opposite, slashing and snarling. He crouched, animalistic, as glass cups fell from the counter and to the carpet. Pete pulled at the lead and Patrick’s attention immediately shifted, his golden eyes alight with anger, Pete hissed back on instinct and Laura jumped, surprised.

Patrick’s feet left behind burn marks on the carpet as he shook himself out, readying his claws and baring his teeth. But before he could tackle Pete, Laura had grabbed him from behind, pulling him back and ramming him into the kitchen sink. She grunted with the effort and Pete grabbed onto Patrick before she could blink.

Pete found solid eye contact as he grabbed on, finding Patrick hot to the touch. 

_ “Patrick!” _ He put weight into his words, “Stop, _ now _.” 

Patrick seized, shaking with anger and flexing his fingers. Pete felt guilt wrack through his chest but he couldn’t look away.

Patrick, breathing heavy, dropped his shoulders, his eyes dimming. “Okay, get him outside-” Laura was already there, careful to not get so close to Pete but pushing Patrick as quick as she could out the door and under the desert willow. Patrick was still making a strict eye contact with Pete, who couldn’t look away, uncomfortable with a hint of the real Patrick staring back at him.

Laura manhandled him under the tree and tied him to the lowest branch. Patrick, resigned to his fate, sighed heavily and sat down, breaking his gaze with Pete.

Laura closed the door with a click of rusty metal and Pete took a seat at her small kitchen table, suddenly exhausted.

“Wow,” She said, “How long has he been doing that?”

Pete stared at his own blackened nails, “He doesn’t do that as often now, it’s like this last week we’ve been on good terms, not that we’ve ever been on the best terms before all this happened to him.”

Laura sat down across from him, eyeing his nails.

“Can you… tell me about what happened?”

Pete looked toward the window on the door, thankfully covered by blinds, and recounted what had happened that night at Patrick’s house, avoiding the details of Anthony’s death with a few queasy glances to the floor.

“Interesting,” She said, finally.

She stood up and Pete expected her to start her coffee maker until she simply began to pace. “So, a warlock… Dust, most likely alchemy mixed with blood magic… Tricky thing about curses, and warlocks, they don’t really come with ready-made countercurses.”

“He did mention his mom being a witch,” Pete supplied. She nodded and furrowed her brow.

“So he had the experience, it’s possible she worked in a darker field, I mean, I do too, but more as a janitor you know?” She nodded to herself, “So maybe she worked in summoning, demon circles, and religious texts.”

She glanced outside, “You would have to give me time to research.”

Pete nodded, fervent, “Anything.”

“And since you don’t have a way of paying me…” She counted something out on her fingers, “Bebe did say you could be my assistant for this other case I’m working?”

Pete didn’t let himself fall into any sort of doubt, “I’m a great assistant.”

Then, during a short meal, Laura paused to be more forthright.

“So you’re a vampire.”

Pete opened his mouth, shut it, then said: “Yeah.”

Laura pursed her lips, “I haven’t… had the best experiences with vampires.”

“Me neither,” Pete shrugged, awkward.

“I mean they usually go to San Antonio,” Laura continued, “There are potent levels of spiritual energy there, so non-humans get drawn there.”

“Yeah, but you aren’t,” Pete said, tight, “You said Eden, so I came to Eden.”

Laura Jane gave him a tight smile, “Just weird for me I guess, but my clients _ shouldn’t _ be bothered, and I won’t be either-” She tacked on the last bit, staying silent until he nodded, “-But… A little about them… It’s a big family, nice people, they’re pretty hermetic, live off the land sort of people, like tire swings and cookouts sort of stuff, but they’ve got cable.”

“Right,” Pete nodded, “What’s their issue?”

“Well, there’s more,” Laura showed him her palm, “They’re lycans, like I said on Coven, and… I don’t know, is there a rivalry there or…?”

Pete blanked, “I’ve never even met one before.”

Laura tapped her fingers on the table, “I guess it’ll be okay, plus they’re really nice-” She sighed suddenly, “I trust Bebe, so I’m gonna trust you… I just need to know if you can keep up and help me out.”

Pete straightened, “Whatever you need, I’m there,” He nodded, confident, but faltered, “To be clear, what exactly am I helping you with?”

* * *

_ Hope you can swing by soon, kids are sleeping, _

_ but the babies aren’t, I’m worried that it’ll spread so I’ll up your rate _

_ Hope this message finds you well, and there’s a roast in the tupperware _

_ for you, hope Ashley delivered it in one piece! _

_ Lee _

  * **_**_Handwritten note from Laura Lee Dun to Laura Jane Grace, stuck to a tupperware lid in the fridge, Eden, Texas, 2005_**_**

* * *

“So,” Laura cleared away dishes and opened a folder that was full to bursting on the table, alongside a notebook so wrecked and coffee-stained Pete wondered if she could even read it, “This is mostly for my benefit, I’m not gonna ask you to take notes, but whatever… Okay, so, the Dun family has been in Eden for like, forever, and you know lycan’s are a bit hermetic, they live in huge family packs and basically live off the land and have this huge family fortune, like I think these guys keep their money built into the walls like it’s the Great Depression or something, but they really don’t need any of it,” She bobbed her head side to side, “I mean everybody needs money, but for them, you know,” She waved her hand and Pete nodded.

“I know what you mean.”

She gestured at him, “Anyway,” She flipped through a few notes and pictures, “I've had to go through a lot of family history? It's been hard since lycans don't have a reputation of participation, so it's like trying to find a mention of one family member in a random newspaper article and then that's it.” 

She tore a pile of clippings out of her folder, and slapped them onto the table, “I don't even need these, Jan, their aunt, she made copies.” Pete grabbed the pile, careful not to rip the yellowed scraps.

The stories were mostly single column, about farming or potlucks. But also a lot of obituaries, young men just barely through their twenties, farming accidents and car crashes, mostly. Pictures, if there even was one, were blurry. Laura grabbed one from his hands and moved it to the top, showing him a picture of two men standing next to their car. A woman stood on the other side, a stern expression on her face. The article was titled: _ “Buyers of First Hundred Cars Sold, Local Edenites.” _

“That’s the first one I found, that’s their matriarch, she’s _ crazy _ old though, and I’ve never met her, Laura Lee Dun is acting matriarch, pack leader, you know.” Laura pointed excitedly at the two men, “ But these are her nephews, twin brothers, her daughter, Laura Lee’s great, great, grandma, is sitting in the backseat but you can barely see her, look at the eyes!” She smiled and Pete looked closer, just catching the tiny pinpricks of light reflecting in all of their eyes. “I love stuff like that.”

“Hm,” Pete remarked, setting the pile down, “Cool.”

“Yeah!” Laura nodded, “It’s been hard though, and I can’t exactly ask them to tell me any stories, you know what it’s like, asking lycan’s to tell you family history? It’s like going to a librarian to ask for a source and she just starts throwing books at you,” She shuffled the clipping back into her folder, “They’ll go on and on, and besides all the obituaries, it’s all lycanthropy oriented, and incomprehensible.”

“So why do you even need it in the first place?”

“That’s what I was getting to,” Laura pointed a finger upward, “They called me up because their little ones had been getting nightmares, so I whipped up a few spells for a peaceful sleep, crystals, sage, all natural ingredients. I go, I stay a night, it’s all fine, I leave, cut and dry plus they’re just fun to be around, but then, they call me again, more nightmares, this time it’s sleepwalking, and the older kids are getting them too. I try the same thing, it goes fine and I chalk it up to hysteria but you know, when has that ever gone over?”

Pete nodded, “Then what?”

“Stuff starts_ happening _,” Laura answered, “Dead animals, squirrels, chickens start turning up dead, they’re lycans, but they’re not feral, and they would never kill their own animals. So messes like that start to pop up, more nightmares, and there’s this weird energy whenever I go down there like something is tapping your shoulder trying to get your attention.”

“You think it could be a possession?” Pete shivered, remembering stories that Luke and Calum had told him about encountering real actual demon possessions and the awful things that their victims did to themselves, not to mention the people around them.

“That’s what I thought,” Laura said, “But the problem is, I did the exorcism on the property to draw out the host and… nothing, I did blessings from local nature spirits to combat the negative energy, but the damn thing is in hiding. Two days ago I found a snake disemboweled on the way to the coop, and then more chickens were gone, it’s like this thing is taunting me or it’s a crazed poltergeist clinging to one of them, sooner or later, it’ll go crazy and turn to violence against the family.”

“Damn,” Pete ran his hand through his hair, “That’s… crazy, why wouldn’t the Dun’s just leave? Maybe it’s clinging to the land?”

“Lycan’s aren’t like Vampires, that’s their ancestral home, they’ve been there for generations, they can’t just pack up and move like vampires.” She leaned onto her fist, “That’s why I need family history since they’ve been there for so long, maybe I could find something linking their family to demonic interaction.”

Pete nodded, “They sound great… You know, besides that last part.”

“They’re_ really _nice,” Laura’s face twisted with concern, “I don’t want them to leave or think this can’t be fixed, they have so many little kids, and they stock my fridge with leftovers which is a little selfish but Lee and her sister Jan are like… Moms of the Year.”

She jumped suddenly and ran to the fridge, which was laden with magnets for various hardcore bands Pete had never heard of and kitschy vacation magnets from Florida and Key West. “I totally forgot!” She pointed at her calendar, “They invited me to dinner! You can come and get acquainted, you’ll love it.”

“I-” Pete coughed, “I don’t- They would have to set another place for me, I don’t want to-”

“Trust me, this is the best way to get to know them,” Laura sat back down, “Maybe you’ll see something I won’t, and they have one of the biggest families in Eden, one more meal is nothing. And what else are you gonna eat? Leftover jello?”

“Does it have marshmallows in it?” Pete shot a glance at Patrick. “What about Patrick?”

“They’d love to have him,” Laura insisted, though she looked weirdly desperate, “They’re great, and where else do you need to be?”

Pete deflated, “Yeah, okay.”

Laura smiled, though Pete might have seen some hesitation in her eye.

In the long run, it would have been smarter to just steal Laura’s leftovers for the night, but Pete had never been very good at having intuition and could have just realized that Laura was just bringing him so she wouldn’t be the center of attention.

When night fell, Laura pulled her truck around to the front and pushed Patrick into the back, locking the windows so he couldn’t push his way out. She seemed strangely laid back as they pulled away from the trailer park and Pete frowned. “Do people get confused at your stuff? I mean all these people?” He gestured at the quiet trailers.

“Oh, that’s all storage, for me,” Laura clarified, “No one _ lives _there, just in the other plots, I own the whole lot, but there’s more trailer park.”

Pete blinked, “So you’re rich?”

Laura gave him an incredulous look, “No way, I got it cheap ‘cause no one else wanted it, it’s basically under a freeway.”

Pete glanced back at the huge cement ramp stretching over the property, “Oh, yeah.”

Patrick met his gaze from the trailer and jumped at the window as Pete whipped back to face the front. He pounded on the glass and roared as loud as he could until Laura cranked the volume on the radio. _ “Broadcasting straight from Salem, Massachusetts, you’re listening to ELXR Radio, no-Divination-required-thank-the-Mother-Earth-made-by-witches and totally free broadcast! Of course, funding provided by the National Coven of Free Witches, with your donations aiding the community in magical ways…” _ The host giggled, _ “And in nonmagical ways, too, I can say from personal experience, the Coven has given me more than just a free bimonthly Dream Journal, but more on that later, for now, my patient Wicca... back to the tunes.” _

Pete was only sort of surprised to hear Twisted Sister scream from the speakers.

“I didn’t know there was a radio station,” Pete pointed. “Is it good?”

“Nah,” Laura frowned, “All they play is Hair, but they have good tips and reach a better audience than the message boards, so it’s good for passing notes, I’m surprised you guys don’t have all this stuff, or is it just Witches that adapted to the 21st Century?”

Pete shrugged and Laura smiled, laughing.

“Just taking it as it comes, huh?”

“Guess I got other things on my mind.”

Patrick shuffled and banged on the windows again and Laura turned down a dusty dirt road. 

“He’s gonna be fine, Pete,” She insisted, “I’m good at my job.”

Fifteen minutes passed as ELXR went through Siouxsie and the Banshees and various lesser bands and Pete started to get antsy, seeing nothing but trees and gravel roads. He was about to ask how much longer it would be before Laura turned on a dime. The gravel turned to dirt, marked by tire tracks and a long line of undisturbed grass in the middle. “Um-”

The road split and Laura took the one Pete would have advised her not to. The shadowy, run-down one, littered with branches and overgrown lichen that looked thick enough to swallow the truck. “Oh my god.”

The truck was bouncing with every push forward until it seemed there were only two wheels on the ground at one time. Laura muttered under her breath: “Just ‘cause _ they _ don’t fucking drive…”

Pete was white-knuckling the assist grip and the armrest as the truck bounced, listening to Patrick scramble for purchase in the trunk. He could hear a few fibers rip at the base of the assist and before he could worry it would rip out of the lining, it was over.

The truck settled on two wheels as an old, worn-out barn came into view and Pete wiped some sweat from his forehead. He spotted himself in the side view mirrors looking paler than usual. Next to their spot was another small, blue truck.

“The road was destroyed after a storm last fall,” Laura said, breathing heavily, “And they just left it.” She pulled the car forward into the barn as Pete shook out his nerves, “But they made this garage for me in like two weeks so.”

“Oh, I thought this was like, abandoned.”

Laura snorted, “It's brand new, and sturdy, they could make a construction company if they wanted, but I doubt anybody is really looking for the uh… Rustic look.”

Pete stepped out of the car, his legs shaking, “The: _ about to fall over _ look.”

Laura hummed in agreement.

The sun had disappeared under the canopy as they both made their way around, turning the sky a lovely purple-pink that Pete could smile at. No longer at the risk of setting on fire, even more now than when they had first set off..

“The rest of the property is down there,” She pointed down a thin trail that Pete hadn’t noticed before, “Forest is too thick to cut a real trail, and they barely drive anyway.” She leaned to unlock the trunk and Pete readied himself to catch him. Laura looked back, “He’s ready, I’m thinking, there’s a clearing on the way for their old barn, which is where I park, they told me over the phone they could shack Patrick up in their barn closer to the house so he doesn’t have to stay with me."

Pete nodded, “Sounds like a plan,” He gestured for her to hurry up.

Laura let the trunk fall open and Pete leapt forward, but Patrick was smarter than he was given credit for, launching himself to the left toward the forest. Pete collided with the trunk and fell inward, knocking the wind from his chest. Laura cursed in a dead language and moved to tackle Patrick or at least grab at the chains trailing after him, he swiped at her, sounding like a wild dog. She shrieked and he roared, sprinting away, which Pete thought looked kinda funny compared to how short he was, into the underbrush.

Pete pushed himself back to his feet and ran after, using the trail to run alongside and overtake him, faster than Laura or any one human could ever run. Patrick snarled as Pete turned in front of him, then bowled him over, screeching as Pete tried to wrap his arms around him. He got halfway to his feet, stepping onto Pete’s chest and winding back his fists. Pete tried to roll to catch them but Patrick bare-knuckled a quick punch that connected with his ear and then his eye. Pete sat, dazed, as Patrick made his escape.

Laura caught up to him not a minute later, breathing heavily and bracing her hands on her knees.

“Fuck,” She watched as Patrick disappeared behind a thick cover of trees, the soft light bouncing off the chains and the red in his hair. Pete pulled himself up, blinking away stars.

“You go ahead, I can find him.”

“The woods go on for miles, he’s already over the ridge,” Laura squinted into the distance, “He’s already out of sight, too, and his footprints disappear.”

Pete rubbed his face, “Yeah, and I’m a vampire that can see in the dark, run faster than a car, and if I focus I can track him,” He was speeding away before he could hear Laura’s response, too nervous thinking about Patrick alone in the woods, cursed out of his mind.

His progress was slow, slower than he wanted, navigating the uneven wood. Darkness came without him even realizing, following familiar scents and trampled ground until he was blue in the face. When stars began to appear, he was tired and close to despair, thinking about all the ways Patrick could kill himself on broken branches and poisonous berries.

Anger ripped at his mind and he hissed, dragging his claws deep into the bark of an oak tree. He fell forward, leaning against the splinters and almost hugging the tree, wrapping his arms around and burying his face in his palms. He breathed, gathering himself.

“Okay, Pete…” He whispered, “Okay… think about this, if you were ‘Trick, what would you do?”

He watched a squirrel skitter up a nearby tree.

“You’d get food, probably.”

Pete stepped forward, then halted, “But you’ve got chains wrapped around your chest, so you can’t be stealthy…” He traced the wrapped chains over his own chest, “It’s too long,” The squirrel ran back down and disappeared into the undergrowth.

“So it drags, and it catches,” He began to walk, then jog, stopping every few feet, pretending he was smart enough to guess Patrick’s train of thought. “So… I’d want to get rid of it.” He breathed in, catching the distant smell of a creek and hearing birds call in the distance. “What the _ fuck _ would my stupid cursed brain look for?” 

After a minute of listening and trying to Sherlock Holmes his way to a solution, a cacophony of ravens and the frantic wings of birds pulled him to his left. “I’d get fucking caught on something!” He exclaimed, “Because of my _ stupid as shit _ cursed brain!”

Within a mile, Patrick was the loudest thing in the forest, growling and hissing every second. Pete thanked him for being so dumb as he came across the scene, watching Patrick twist and pull against his chains. His golden eyes were two pinpricks in the dark, along with the silver chains glinting in the moonlight..

He was stuck, struggling against the chain wrapped around a thick pine tree. The metal was taught against his body, squeezing against his shoulders and reddening his skin. Thankfully, nothing had wrapped around his neck, but he was trapped either way.

Blood had smeared around his mouth and up to his hands, his hair tangled and his clothes had been ripped. He looked feral, and Pete swallowed a terrible lump of guilt that had been building in his throat, seeing Patrick inhuman and so far gone.

He steeled himself and hopped into the tiny clearing.

“Hey, buddy-”

Patrick snarled, lashing out, one arm was kept back with a loop around his shoulder, acting as a tourniquet. His fingers seized, and even with Pete standing right in front of him it seemed to be holding the most of Patrick’s attention.

“I know you really don’t want to see me right now…” Pete held his hands aloft, inching toward him, “But I can help you, okay?” Patrick bared his pointed teeth, showing off more blood and Pete gulped. “Look at that, you got a meal out of this!” He began moving to the side, tracing the path of the chains to where they had bent and anchored Patrick awkwardly to the tree. “And now you’re stuck, that sucks, and I’m not making the obvious joke here… But we could handle this...” Pete thought fondly of the fight they had had in Patrick’s kitchen in Chicago, their short parlay over the landline telephone. Pete readied his stance and leaped forward, echoing one of their greatest hits: _ “Like adults!” _

Patrick twisted to grab him, bending his captured arm against its natural path. He cried out, falling to one knee as Pete pushed and pulled at the tangled chain, unwrapping it and tightening it into his grip until finally, he could pull it back around Patrick, correcting its course as they struggled. 

He jerked forward, taking Pete with him, “Dammit! _ Stop _, for one-!” Patrick roared and charged forward, dragging Pete along as the chain unraveled itself from his straightened arm, “Shit!” Pete pulled back, digging in his heels as Patrick clambered back into the dark forest. His hands ached, sweat breaking on his forehead, and in one mighty heave that ripped a shout from his mouth-

He fell to his butt as the chain went slack.

“Uh,” He examined it in the palm of his hand, “What.”

Some rustling from the trees could be heard, along with a soft whine and heavy breathing.

Creeping back through the trees, Patrick was coming back, silent as he returned and walking backward. He tripped back over a fallen tree and scrambled the rest of the way back, almost bracing himself against Pete.

In the shadows, Pete caught the outline of a hunched figure, taller than the both of them. It seemed to balance on its toes, stretching its arms wide as two, electric silver eyes stared them down.

Pete swallowed, prepared for a fight until the figure seemed to shrink.

It fell forward, almost to its knees, then up again on a normal footing, still broad as it stepped forward. Its limbs were bent and oddly thin, its head lowered and the eyes blinking back, it paused, breathing evenly. Then, he stepped into the light, keeping its gaze fixed on Patrick.

It was a boy, about Patrick’s age, lean and reedy, but his face was slightly flattened, his nose straight and his cheeks pulled back. His ears were pointed and drawn flat, and his mouth was open, his lips twitching in an extended growl. His teeth were big like Pete’s, twisted and sharp. Hair grew from his cheeks and down his neck, wild and unkempt like it was on the top of his head.

His shoulders were broad and just as hairy, leading into long arms and thin fingers, bony and ending with deadly sharp claws. He seemed naturally hunched, his legs bent and balanced slightly on the balls of his feet.

He had no shoes, and his toes were clawed like his fingers.

Pete hurried to secure Patrick while he was distracted, never taking his eyes off the boy.

“You’re a lycan,” Pete said, “I know Laura.”

The lycanthrope blinked, relaxing. Patrick remained spooked, thankfully.

“Oh, yeah,” The lycan nodded, his voice distorted, “She said you ran off, you’re Pete?”

Pete nodded and something about the lycan’s posture shifted, less animalistic and gangly. He was wearing joggers and a wife beater that seemed a little worse for wear. When he stuck a slightly furry hand out, his claws mimicked Pete’s.

Pete took it to stand.

“Name’s Josh,” He smiled, toothy.

Pete nodded, “This is Patrick.”

Patrick had pulled himself into a small ball, sitting and staring at his feet.

Josh nodded, “Nice to meet you,” He blinked and the silver disappeared, his eyes more human, he gestured for Pete to follow, “Folks’ll be glad we can start dinner,” He smiled again, and Pete could see his face slowly gain more shape, the hair flattening on his cheeks and disappearing. “Ain’t ever had a vampire over before, my aunt is going crazy over the kids, they’re hissing and jumping off the furniture, is that really a thing you people do?” Josh asked, his ears still pointed and moving on their own, Pete pulled on the chains as Patrick lagged behind. “Hiss, I mean.”

“Uh, yeah it happens,” Pete said, catching sight of a few lights up ahead, “And glide, too… I thought lycan’s only turned on the full moon?”

Josh barked out a laugh, “Nah, that’s all made up, you’re thinking of werewolves, poor sons of bitches, for us, it’s whenever we want.”

“Huh,” Pete hummed as they stepped out from the edge of the woods. Josh clapped him on the back and hurried forward.

“Let’s get up, we can put your friend in our barn.”

Pete stopped to look up at the main house.

Made of dark wood, it was hard to tell exactly how many floors there were but it was big any way he looked at it. With a wraparound porch and a smoking chimney, it looked cobbled together in places, exposed brick, and windows covered in a tarp, it was surrounded by a few smaller buildings with more in the distance. Organized, but somehow thrown together at the same time.

Patrick snarled behind him, recovered and unimpressed.

Pete tilted his head, “Hm, alright.”

Josh grinned, “You like it? My uncle’s got a real ranch and everything a few miles down for the horses and cows, but this is pretty much it.”

“It’s… definitely bigger than my place.”

“We’ve had it since forever,” Josh said, “Grandma says she ain’t moving, and that’s pretty much how it is, I never saw any problem, here, we’ll go in the back, right to the kitchen, and we can get Patrick settled.”

In the light from the porch, Josh finally looked fully human, his eyes a warm brown and the only hint of lycanthropy left were his pointed canines.

He led them into the barn, flicking on a few buzzing lanterns and pulling out a few blankets from some spare storage bins, “Mom had us get this area ready,” He explained, “We can clean him up after dinner, Jordan and I can wrestle him into some clean clothes too.”

Pete secured the chain to a beam and looped it with the elastic he kept tied on, trying to keep from worrying about Patrick pulling loose in the night.

“Are you sure? You don’t need to, I’ve been hosing him down fine-”

“We’re fine with a few teeth and claws,” Josh took the elastic from him, “He seems dead on his feet now, too, he won’t touch us,” He patted Pete’s shoulder, “You can trust us, Pete.”

Handing over the chain felt like dropping a boulder. 

His arms shook and his fingers ached, weighing him down and pushing a breath of relief from his lungs. Even when he’d been tied up in the past, leaving Pete able to roam, they had still been shackled together.

Now, with the promise of a real meal and a house to sit down in, Pete felt a bit guilty dropping him so fast.

He buried his fists in his pockets, watching as Patrick took a quick look around and sat with a huff onto the blankets in the corner of a stall, fiddling with the chain. He looked human again, trying to distract himself.

Pete sighed and took a quick look around as Josh set out a few more blankets and pillows, peeking into stalls and kicking at stray rocks. Until he came to the end, where the barn doors were secured with a padlock. To the left, more storage, but to the right, a tarp had been hung from a hook attached to the wall. One side was falling down, pulling the rest with it and making a tent in one corner.

Pete felt strangely cold just by looking at it, and his feet lead him forward of their own accord.

Without a glance back at Josh he pulled the tarp aside, the hook falling easily from the wall and the tarp landing in a heap at his feet. On the wall, Pete could smell blood, dried dark red and smeared onto the wood and as Pete stepped back he could make out something written in shaky handwriting.

_ I’M HERE _

“Oh, shit-”

Pete jumped back as Josh stepped into his periphery, looking back to Patrick and then frantically to Josh.

“That’s not-” Josh blushed, “-Sorry, we want to paint over it but…” He hurriedly folded up the tarp and led Pete away. “I mean we never get out here-”

“What is it?”

“It’s why Laura’s here, and you, right?” Josh confirmed, stepping past Patrick, “It’s just chicken blood, nothing to worry about.”

Before Pete could question him further, they stepped onto the porch with Josh opening the door for him, laughter and loud conversations carrying on without them. The smell of bread and meat floating out into the night. Something ripped past them, fast like a bullet, and Josh jumped, laughing, then sprinted after the blur, letting the door slam against the frame.

“Pete!” Laura had shot up to hold the door open, “Josh found you, finally, come on and take a seat.” Pete smiled, stepping into the house and feeling the warmth of the kitchen settle into his clothes.

“Hey, sorry for running off,” He told her, looking around at Josh’s family, chatting and huddled close around the room.

“I knew they’d find you,” Laura waved her hand, “Abby and Jordan are still out but-”

A sudden roar came from upstairs, the light from the window illuminating the backyard. Laura pointed upward, nodding. “Ashley probably saw you come back.”

In the distance, if Pete listened hard enough, he could hear Patrick roaring back.

“Okay! Okay! Take your seats!” A blond woman, older than the both of them, had entered the room. “Bill! Would you get Stephen-” A man walked past her, kissing her on the cheek.

“Stephen is already here, Jordan and Amber heard Ashley too, so they’re on their way, I saw them through the window.”

Another man, presumably Stephen, had been sitting in the corner reading the newspaper. At the woman’s voice, he folded the paper and stood.

“Right here, Laura Lee, Jan is just finishing up in the kitchen-” He stepped over two kids Pete hadn’t noticed before that were fighting over a Gameboy Advance, “-Put it away, _ rascals _\- and Lee!”

Laura Lee was placing down extra forks and cups down on the dinner table, calling back: “What!”

“You have guests,” Stephen grabbed one of the kids by the back of his shirt collar and pulled him back, “Ms. Grace, and her friend-”

The other kid stood up, still clutching the Gameboy, “The vampire!” She yelled, smiling toothily at Pete.

Pete gave her an awkward wave as Laura Lee greeted Laura Jane with a hug.

“Hi, Mrs. Dun, sorry for the delay-”

“Don’t even mention it! We’re the ones holding you up now-” Mrs. Dun caught Pete in the same hug, “-How are you? Tired? Hungry? Running around the woods this late can be a chore!” She held him by his shoulders, giving him the once over. “Let’s get a look at you,” She grabbed a leaf from his hair and let it fall to the ground. “Well? Are you?”

Pete blushed purple, “Yeah, really hungry.”

“Well, not for much longer-” The door burst open with the sound of laughter and clicking linoleum and Mrs. Dun shouted out, “_ Kids! _ Jan! Get your mutts! _ What _ did I tell you about claws in this house!” Her arm shot out and grabbed one small kid by the straps of her overalls and hoisted her up into the air, still play-fighting and snarling joyfully. Stephen stepped forward to confront the other two, who latched onto his legs and sat on the tops of his feet.

Stephen mocked exhaustion as he stepped back into the living room. The two older kids from earlier practically tackled Laura, loading her with questions about magic and vampires.

Pete felt like he was at the beginning of Home Alone, where the whole family was hurrying to pack for their Christmas vacation.

Gingerly, he took a seat in the closest chair.

Slowly, the room began to fill with more kids and their parents and aunts and uncles. Pete met Ashley, Josh’s younger sister, and shook hands with Bill, their father, and Stephen, their uncle. Jan, their aunt, set a salad bowl in front of him and asked him if he liked cucumber. He shook his head, no.

A few people in their twenties joined the table, along with an older couple, presumably grandparents. If that wasn’t enough, two hulkish dogs came in from somewhere, clambering over the little kids as Josh finally stepped back in and took a seat next to Pete.

One dog pushed itself under the table, bumping it and sending a few plates bouncing before pulling itself to a chair, but instead of a paw grabbing and pulling at the edge of the table, it was a clawed hand. The boy that showed himself was half shifted and shirtless, but somehow still in a pair of boxers. The other dog, or wolf, Pete now presumed, had foregone the shift and had awkwardly pulled itself into a chair. Paws on the table, it clumsily lapped at a young boy’s glass of water, making the boy shriek with laughter.

“Abigail!” Mrs. Dun’s voice drew half of the table quiet and Laura Jane snorted, half-listening to a girl whispering in her ear. “What have I said about shifting at the dinner table?”

The wolf, Abigail, barked, her tongue lolling, then she whined and gave the boy a quick lick on the cheek. She disappeared around the corner and up a pair of stairs, claws clicking on the wood floor and whining the whole way. Mrs. Dun nodded, rolling her eyes, “Blah blah blah, uh-huh, and Jordan, would you _please_ _get some clothes on?”_

Jordan was Josh’s half-shifted younger brother, who scoffed, “I have clothes on!”

Josh leaned closer to Pete, “Jordan doesn’t have the shift down very well yet, he either can’t do it at all, or he can’t go back all the way, and-” Josh spoke loudly, “-He never wears pants!”

“Screw you, Josh! Who says I _ have _ to wear pants?” Jordan pounded on the table as Jan set the main course, a platter of chicken and scallions, down on the table.

“Hey, woah! You want me to drop your dinner!?”

“I say you do!” Mrs. Dun pointed at herself, “And don’t talk to your brother like that! And you-” She pointed at Josh, who straightened, “-No more yelling at the dinner table!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Josh nodded, anything but meek.

“I’m too hungry to get dressed,” Jordan crossed his arms as Abigail came back down, smacking him on the back of the head.

Laura Jane snorted again, “I don’t think you’re gonna get any food until you get some clothes on, bud.”

Jordan leaned over to see her as the table finally quieted down, the little kids shuffling into their spots and a baby Pete hadn’t even noticed before was banging a spoon on the tray table of it’s high chair. It’s gurgling turning into a soft growl and back again.

Jordan blushed, “Oh, hi Laura,” He stood up and caught sight of Pete, “Hi, I’ll be right back.”

Uncle Stephen pulled in a chair next to Jan. The both of them straight across from Pete, “Herding cats…”

Jan nodded, “Well, you know, great uncle Octavius could turn into a Border Collie,” She leaned closer to Pete over the table, “Sorry if it’s a bit overwhelming, hon, you hungry?”

“No, it’s totally fine,” Pete smiled, “It’s kinda funny.”

Jan giggled and Bill led the family in a short meal prayer, not sounding specific to any religion, but Pete abstained anyway before the family quickly dug in. Josh, thankfully, managed to snag each dish that came their way, serving himself and Pete a good portion before it was stolen away. Laura Jane fit in easily, stealing each dish for herself while the kids fought over them. Awkwardly, Pete sipped at his glass of milk, shaking his head at the bottle of wine being passed around.

“We were a bit overwhelmed ourselves, you know,” Jan leaned in as Josh scarfed down his chicken like a dog. “Never really met a vampire before, you know, we’re not very religious but we did put away the few crosses, just in case.”

“You didn’t need to,” Pete shook his head, “It’s only if they’re blessed and used with some Latin.”

Jan frowned, chewing a few chunks of potato, and Josh leaned in, “What happens then?” He asked.

Pete picked at the chicken, grabbing his knife, “The Hunter’s Guild uses it as a defense, usually, it just throws me back and breaks a few bones, it’s not too bad unless they use holy water with their crossbows.”

“What if you were Jewish?” Josh talked through his chicken, “Would they still use it?”

Pete shrugged, “I guess I haven’t really met any Jewish vampires to ask.”

“Is it true vampires can’t use mirrors?” One of the thirteen-year-olds from earlier spoke up, holding an enormous chunk of chicken on her fork..

“I can see myself fine,” He answered.

“What about garlic?” Another small kid asked, mouth full of green beans.

“I love garlic bread,” Pete soothed, amused, “I think that was a con by some Warlocks years ago.”

Laura Jane caught his gaze, smiling.

A kid tapped on his shoulder, “So do you like, suck blood from people’s necks?”

“No, middle of the shoulders better, plus, it’s sort of illegal.”

“Cause… ‘cause I read Dracula, by Bram Stoker-”

Pete frowned, “Aren’t you like ten?”

“Nine,” The kid waved his wand, “-And he had this whole castle and turned that girl, do you have a castle?”

Pete blinked, “I have an apartment, back in Chicago.”

Josh perked up, “Oh, hey, Chicago-”

The green beans kid spoke up again, “Do you really have to be invited in places?”

“No, but sometimes-”

The nine-year-old pulled at his jacket, “If I throw rice on the ground do you have to count it?”

“I don’t think so-”

The girl with the chicken leaned forward, “Does silver make you _ die?” _

Another kid tagged along: “Grandma says silver makes us die.” A few of the kids nodded along, seeming to multiply as their parents conversed calmly under their yelling.

“No, dumbass, it’s a stake to the heart,” Josh pointed his fork at the kid, maybe sensing Pete’s overwhelming urge to sink into the floor.

“Well, what about running water?” The kids were blending together, “Vampires can’t cross running water.”

Pete frowned, “I can _ cross _-”

“And I heard vampires can like, run really fast and then turn into bats.”

“Well, no-”

“Do you go crazy when you see blood? Cause my tooth bleeds when I floss, see-?”

Pete squinted when a girl turned her lip out, pointing at a canine.

“No, only when I’m really hungry-”

“Do Vampires really hypnotize people?”

“I can-”

“Do people die when you drink their blood?”

“No-”

“Can you hypnotize me?”

“Um-”

“Oh! Oh! Hypnotize Jordan! Hypnotize Jordan and suck his blood!”

Jordan coughed into his glass of milk and Jan pat him on the back, eyeing Mrs. Dun at the head of the table.

“Yeah! Hypnotize Jordan!”

“Shut up!”

“You can hypnotize Jordan and then suck his blood and then! And then! You can turn him!”

“Yeah! Turn Jordan!”

Pete shoved chicken into his mouth.

“Have you ever turned anyone before?”

“You could turn Josh too!”

“Hey, Em, why not chew your food?” Josh leaned over Pete and shoved her away.

“Have you ever killed anyone before?”

Em grabbed his hand with greasy fingers, “Why do you have claws?”

Mrs. Dun stood as Pete ripped his hand away.

“Get _ back _ in your seats!” She pounded the table and Em and about a thousand other kids ducked into their plates or scrambled to their seats, “If you can’t be respectful, leave him _ alone _ instead of bombarding him!”

Bill nodded, grabbing a few napkins to mop up a splash of wine on the table, “Can I offer you some more potatoes, Pete?”

Pete nodded, sheepish, “Um, yes, thank you.”

The kids were quiet for a few minutes, the baby cheerfully rapping his spoon on his tray, before starting their own conversations and avoiding looking Pete’s way.

Josh gave Pete’s claws a glance, then asked: “So Chicago?” 

Pete nodded, “The one in Illinois, yeah.”

Josh smiled, “We have friends in Chicago, hounds, half lycan.”

“Oh, cool,” Pete said, his hands shaking slightly, “I didn’t even know.”

“Yeah, you must be on the vampire side of town,” Josh reasoned, half-joking, “We’ve got a few family friends, One of my best friends, Tyler, lives up there.”

Pete blinked, “Tyler?”

“Yeah, we’ve been friends for forever, and apparently the Guild sent a Hunter and another vampire to question their family about that kid disappearing…” He gave Pete a look, “Guess you found him, huh?”

Pete clamped his mouth shut, looking to Laura, who was caught in a conversation with Uncle Stephen, then back to Josh. 

“I kind of want to keep that… under wraps.”

“I get it.” Josh’s gaze lingered, “...So what’s-”

“Pete!” Laura called, diverting his attention away from Josh. She nodded to Mrs. Dun at the head of the table.

“Uh, yes ma’am?” He smiled at Mrs. Dun, who smiled back just as easy. 

“Laura was telling me earlier that you just arrived!” She said, “We made up a room for you, if you’d like, it might be easier, with your friend and all.”

“I’ll take it,” Pete nodded, fervent, his thoughts going immediately to a picture-perfect resort-like bed. Across the table, Jordan had shoved a pile of chicken and beans into his mouth.

His thoughts reigned themselves in, thinking of a bed with flannel sheets and a squeaky frame. Comfortable nonetheless. 

“Whatever you have, you don’t even need to make up a room, I haven’t slept in a bed for weeks.”

Mrs. Dun waved her hand, “I’ll show you after we clean up,” She looked to her husband, “Or-Bill, can you get it sorted?”

“Don’t even have to ask, Lee,” Bill was already instructing a few of the younger kids in stacking plates, “Go ahead.”

The noise in the room soon shifted, the sound of stacking cups and extras being shoved into the trash. Pete finished up as quick as he could before his own plate could be assimilated into the stack. Josh clapped him on the shoulder, standing with his sisters to gather utensils, “Catch you later, okay?”

Pete nodded, smiling, toothy, and maneuvered through the hordes of kids and cousins and brothers and sisters to meet Mrs. Dun at the archway that opened the dining room to the rest of the house. Laura Jane was talking animatedly with a few other women her age as they gathered cups and plates of food. She passed him and said: “Meet you later! We’ll talk!”

Pete gave her a thumbs up.

“It’s just this way, Peter,” Mrs. Dun tapped him on the shoulder to lead him down the hallway, “It’s on short notice so we really scrambled!”

“Just Pete is okay,” He said, “And I’m serious, I’ll take anything.”

“Okay, Just Pete,” She nodded. In the dim light, her eyes reflected yellow, “I’m so sorry about the kids, they can be abrasive…” She turned and led him up a flight of stairs that groaned with each step, Pete could see spots where steps had to be replaced or fixed, where the family had just grabbed whatever would fit. The mismatched wood was smooth, however, with expert craftsmanship, albeit the scratches and areas gouged with claw marks. “I hope they didn’t ask anything too personal, they really don’t mean it, the same happened with Laura Jane, we just don’t get too many other folks that aren’t just other lycans.”

“It, um… I just got overwhelmed,” Pete shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, “Haven’t had any conversations lately, with Patrick the way he is.”

“That’s alright,” She softened and led him down another hallway, “And I’m_ sure _ we’ll have you acclimated back into _ high society _ before the week is up.” She laughed at her joke as they passed a few rooms that Pete could catch glances of as they walked. Each another child’s bedroom, either doubled or tripled up with beds. “I swear we multiply every two months,” Mrs. Dun waved at the rooms, “Like that old movie, Cheaper by the Dozen.”

“I’ve never seen it,” Pete spied a room that looked like it might have been Josh’s, a double bed and posters of various hardcore bands, then they were around a corner and it was gone.

“Really?” Mrs. Dun hummed, “It’s cute, you know Laura Jane always jokes we live under a rock when it comes to Popular Culture, but we’re only a few years behind! And goodness knows, the kids are at school and they pick all that stuff up, we’re all excited for that new Batman!”

She came to a stop after passing a bathroom and an office, gesturing to the guest room. From where they stood, Pete could barely hear the commotion downstairs, and the carpet absorbed the worst of it.

The room was small, but cozy, with the bed pushed against the wall and a small television opposite. Pete could feel the mattress just by looking at it, thinking of collapsing into it and getting sucked in like the Nightmare on Elm Street, but without the blood and the dying.

“Bathroom is just down there, you saw,” Mrs. Dun paused, “...I have a nephew that’s just your size, he’s out of town on a road trip, let me grab you some clothes and I’m sure we have some soap and shampoo…”

Pete felt like he was melting, “Has anyone ever told you you’re the most beautiful person in the universe?”

She gave him a smile that reminded him of his own mom, and his own exhaustion was suddenly upon him, clouding his mind and making his legs as heavy as lead.

“You get yourself into the shower and I’ll take a look around.”

He wasn’t sure how long he stood under the hot water, but the mirror was steamed over and the house was calm and quiet. A pair of pajamas sat on the vanity, along with a packaged toothbrush and paste. He could hear talking from the first floor, the warm orange light from the kitchen reminded Pete when he was younger, listening to his parents' soft voices reverberate through their tiny home. He turned away from the noise and wondered if he had smelled at dinner, and he blushed purple at how nice they had all been, not commenting on it.

He could hear a few kids playing in their rooms, the smallest of them put to bed. Before Pete could follow their lead, Laura Jane was flipping through the channels on his TV.

“You look about a thousand years younger,” She smiled, “Your clothes are in the wash, she pulled these out of your pockets, too.” She gestured to the notes he had received earlier, from Sandra and Bebe.

Pete nodded, “I don’t know how I’m gonna pay them back.”

“By helping me help them,” Laura sat up, muting the TV, “They’re good at hiding it, but they’re scared, Mrs. Dun told me on the phone that she had found a dead snake hanging from the door to the backyard last night, it’s head bashed in. The baby isn’t sleeping like it used to, and the longer this goes on, there are more and more nightmares, they’re hard to explain, but they say it’s flashes of this dark place, being squeezed and crushed, and whispers in their ears…”

She sighed, “Someone here isn’t who they say they are, and they might not even know it, they might do things they wouldn’t normally, pushed by the thing that’s whispering in their ear, maybe they don’t remember killing these animals and writing on the walls, but there’s something in them that’s pushing and breaking them down,” She made a squeezing motion with her hand by her stomach, “It’s wearing them out so it can take control, influencing their actions in tiny ways, learning how to blend in and take control.”

“So what do we even look for?” Pete climbed into the bed and rubbed his eyes, thinking about the smeared blood in the barn where Patrick was staying.

“Your senses are better than mine, obviously,” She stood, “I’ve been placing blessing all throughout the property, building up its spiritual energy and paying respects to the trees, they can make the magic here thicker, and make it stronger, but it needs to show itself more often to gather it… So I need you to keep watching and listening, the more it comes out, the easier it will be to spot it before it takes over completely and I won’t have to call the Guild in for one of their Exorcisms.”

Her expression changed to that of worry, “It’s been frustrating, I think it’s taunting me, leaving messages like ‘I’m here’ and ‘Free me’...” She scratched the back of her head and Pete held his head up with his fist, watching her. “I’m gonna go home, grab some things for tomorrow and start in on Patrick, I have some old texts on Warlock methodology, maybe it’ll do me good to take a break from all of…” She gestured to the house, “-This.”

Pete nodded, his eyelids drooping, “Thank you, Laura.”

“I’ll go check in on Patrick, I know they gave him food-”

“Okay, bye-” Pete felt no remorse pushing her from the room.

And then landing facedown on the bed.

* * *

** _QUESTIONS FOR VAMPYRE_ **

_ ← Spelling by Uncle Stephen _

  * __Does Blood taste good?__
  * _What sunscreen works for you?_
  * _Can you bite us?_
  * _Do you have a job?_
  * _How old are you?_
  * _What’s your favorite color?_

  * **_**_Incomplete list by the Dun Children, Eden, Texas, 2005_**_**

* * *

_ “Why they even letting you in there?” _

His bag fell slowly to the pavement as if through syrup, the hot sun beating down on the back of his neck. 

_ “Gee, I don’t know, for my business?” _ Pete squinted up at them, gathering his bag as his scowl deepened. The books had scattered, and the cement pressed into his knees, _ “The man needs money to pay the bills and make the food doesn’t he?” _

_ “Like _ your _ business makes any difference,” _ One of them kicked a book further away, he was nameless, featureless, always said the same things. _ “You come in, I feel sick to my stomach-” _

_ “Don’t even look at me in school, so why look in there?” _

He and his other, nameless friend caught him by the collar and pulled back, their hands digging into his back like stakes, pinching his spine as they dragged him into the grass. _ “Why even come anymore?” _ They hissed. _ “They got a diner down there for _ your _ people-” _

Pete pulled upward, expecting his fist to connect with their facelessness.

Instead.

He was somewhere else.

Black and blue and swirling purple tones, curving up and around his body, the books from his backflipping open back and forth in front of him. His jacket was loose around him, defying gravity as voices cut into his ears, speaking languages he couldn’t recognize.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder and as he swung around-

He was back in the grass, alone.

_ “Oh, Peter,” _ The man with white claws held out his hand, casting a shadow, _ “You really mustn't let them rile you.” _

And before he could catch the figures face-

Pete gasped awake in a cold sweat.

* * *

** _Bobby’s All American Diner_ **

** _Business Hours:_ **

** _7 AM to 8 PM _ **

** _Sunday to Saturday_ **

** _BOOTH SEATING TO WHITES ONLY_ **

  * **_**_Business Hours for Bobby’s All American Diner, Peoria, Illinois, 1943_**_**

* * *

When he finally woke again, barely remembering the dream that had riled him hours before, the house was buzzing with activity. The clock on the wall indicated it was just past noon and the windows were covered and secured with thick blinds. He hadn’t even realized they had been tied open when he had gotten there, but someone had come in and secured them in place.

His clothes were folded and put on the chair by the dresser, along with his umbrella and a few newer clothes, probably from the same relative that had loaned him his pajamas.

Just outside the door was the sound of kids, trampling all over the house and up and down the stairs. They snarled and barked at each other, or simply yelled. A few would argue or complain, but the words never carried through the walls.

Distantly, he could hear Patrick growl and whine.

Pete quickly got to his feet, unsteady, dressing and tucking the umbrella awkwardly into his back pocket. Contrary to the sound of the house, the hallway outside his room was empty. The kids were all mostly downstairs or in the yard, and he could hear the sound of a groaning swing set that Pete hadn’t seen in the night.

He could Laura Jane’s voice from the living room downstairs.

“Hey!” Josh’s voice came from the other end of the hallway, “You’re awake! I thought you would sleep until tomorrow.”

Pete glanced down the stairs, then back at Josh, smiling at him from his room.

“Uh, yeah, me too, but I feel a lot better,” He took a step toward Josh, who straightened and backed into the bedroom, waiting for him. “How’s Patrick?”

“We fed him this morning,” Josh fell back onto his bed, “Mom made waffles, just for Jordan, Amanda, and Ash and me, but brought out some for him… He _ drank _ that syrup.” 

Pete lingered in the doorway, looking at Josh’s posters and the drumset pushed into the corner. He had a CD Player, and four big books to hold the CD’s piled next to a bunch of miscellaneous clothes and trinkets. He had a small TV in his room, the usual teenage boy stuff, Pete nodded to himself, tattoo magazines and action figures placed carefully on his desk beside his notebooks.

“That’s good, the only thing we’ve been eating is… birds and squirrels.”

Josh hummed appreciatively, then sat up, indicating to the desk chair. Absently, he grabbed a silver flick lighter from his bedside table, letting the flame flicker on and off.

Pete sat, reaching to touch a tiny stormtrooper, poised to shoot their blaster at something across the room.

“What’s Laura doing?”

Josh waved his hand, “Some blessing thing, with herbs and stuff to help the nightmares, the smell really gets to me,” His nose twitched to emphasize his discomfort, “Good thing she really only needs to do it by the fireplace.”

A grin twitched at the corner of Pete’s mouth, “I get that, my um…” he faltered, “My mom used to light incense, it gave me a headache.”

Josh made a face like he wanted to ask _ the questions. _

Pete braced himself.

“So do you guys think you can solve what’s going on with us?”

Pete’s shoulders rounded, “Well, I hope so, I mean I just got here, but Laura seems pretty dedicated, looking into your family history and stuff.”

Josh nodded, almost calculating.

He glanced down at Pete’s black claws, “What about those?”

Pete curled his fingers and smiled tightly.

Josh showed his palms, “My mom wanted me to ask,” He began, sheepish, “I was all for letting you have privacy… Here.” he shifted to dig in his bedside table, tossing Pete a granola bar to hide his blush.

Pete caught it and ate ravenously.

“So how long have you guys been traveling with each other?”

He wiped his mouth and crumpled up the wrapper, “Pretty long, week and a half, I guess?”

“And he’s been like… _ that _, the entire time?”

“Not the entire time I’ve known him,” Pete said, “He’s really actually a smartass, he’s just like that because of me.” Josh frowned and Pete hurried to speak, “It’s a warlock curse, it was meant for me.”

“Damn,” Josh frowned, closing the lighter, “You must really feel bad about it if you’re carting him across the country.”

Pete leaned on the desk, “It’s my fault, He’ll… I think he’d understand, I got him involved in something when I really shouldn’t have… I think I Influenced without even realizing and made him…” He trailed off, looking to Josh and trying to predict what he would think if he told him about Anthony and dismembering him with garden shears.

“I did something awful, and then after that, I did something even worse to try and cover it up, and I’ve been thinking about it, and I kinda realized that I let myself be something that I’m not, do you know what I mean?”

Josh nodded, “I get it,” He pointed past Pete to the wall behind the desk. Pete turned and noticed a patch where the paint was newer than the rest of the wall, “I tore a hole there a long time ago, when I was first learning how to turn, it’s not the biggest thing around here, but I got into my brother’s room and trashed his dresser and stuff, it freaked me out when they got me to calm down, like, I let myself fall into something basic.”

Pete sighed, relieved, “I used to get really freaked out about blood and stuff, but when I was turned, it all went away, like overnight, nothing like that freaks me out anymore. It’s in Vampires nature to be apathetic to it, I hate that, but then I just let it take over for me and I made Patrick like that too.”

Josh stole another glance at his claws, “Maybe it was the only thing that worked, I mean, whatever you did, it could have made you flip out, my mom told me that it’s not my fault if nature takes over, but it’s still my responsibility.”

Pete wrung his hands, “You’re pretty smart for a teenager.”

Josh smiled, haughty, but tensed as a voice rang up from downstairs.

“Josh!” Mrs. Dun called, “I’m looking outside and you’re not tending to the chickens!”

“I was getting there, mom!”

He growled and stood, “Here, come on, we can talk at the coop, you’ll love it.”

* * *

_ Feeding Chart: _

_ Sun.: Ashley _

_ Mon.: Jordan _

_ Tues.: Abby _

_ Wed.: Sarah _

_ Thurs.: Josh _

_ Fri.: Theresa _

_ Sat: Kids _

_ And watch for EARL!! _

** _-Chicken Feeding Schedule, written in dry erase marker, Eden, Texas, 2005_ **

* * *

The hens avoided Pete like the plague, clucking at him from the other side of their small yard. Josh snorted, stepping over them as they crowded his feet. “Ladies, please-” His head snapped up, pointing at Pete, “-Get him out of here!”

Pete jumped, startled, holding tight to his umbrella. Something brushed past his leg, licking its chops at the sight of the hens.

A small brown tabby looked up at him, meowing sweetly until Pete grabbed it around the middle, valiantly saving the chickens from feline tyranny.

Josh filled their seed, and stepped inside the coop, snorting as the tabby yowled in protest as Pete squished him against his chest.

“So, I wanted to ask…” Josh called, “Um, I wanted to clarify, I mean, about the claws.”

He stepped back out with eggs in hand, gently placing them in a basket on the ground, “My mom wanted to know because they look like, um, ours, actually.”

He flexed his hand and his nails sharpened black. Pete blinked, stepping forward to see. The hens balked, clucking loudly. Pete held up his own claws, holding the cat tight.

Josh shrugged, “See?”

“Yeah,” Pete blushed purple, “Yeah.”

“Maybe we can help you if it is lycanthropy,” He grabbed the egg basket, “Let’s bring these in, you can put Earl down away from the hens.”

Earl was the cat.

Aunt Jan was watching a soap on the television in the kitchen when they entered, sipping tea from a mug that said ‘Dog Lover’, which Pete thought was funny.

She was enamored with the TV, but gave them a quick glance as Josh set the eggs down, “Laura Jane went upstairs with the sage, if you’re looking, Pete.”

“Earl got into the coop again,” Josh said, Jan scoffed.

“Damn cat’s gonna get pecked to death,” She cast Pete another glance, “Well? Was Josh able to get an answer out of you?”

“Oh, about-?” Pete showed her his claws again, ignoring a few of the kids fighting in the other room.

She quickly set her mug down to examine them, “When did you get them?”

“Same time I met Patrick,” Pete told her, squeamish, “It’s not… a fun story.”

“No, but maybe we can help you get your hands back, did you have a run in with a hound? Was it a spell?”

“A guy attacked me, said he put Lycan blood in me,” Pete paused, trying to figure out the parts to skip, “I went crazy, and came back with these.”

Jan pursed her lips, Josh looking over her shoulder.

“It’s not… It’s definitely not a common thing, huh? I was talking about it with Lee...” She stood back, scrutinizing him, “When you hear stories of werewolves from the Guild, it’s not one of us, Pete, it’s usually a normal, and Sightless human that got caught in the crosshairs of a rabid lycan. A bite makes them go crazy, transferring our curse to someone… It’s basically rabies is what it is, but it’s slow, that’s where all the full moon stuff comes from, some poor bastard getting all this strength and power until it spins out of control and kills them.”

“But I’m a vampire,” Pete stuffed his hands into his pockets, “I went crazy right away, and some Hunters brought me back.”

“I…” Jan put her hands on her hips, “Well, I don’t think it has anything to do with vampirism.”

She crossed her arms, “Have you ever heard the term: Dogtooth?”

The word made Pete’s chest tight, choking him from the inside. The corners of his mouth pushed downward and Jan backpedaled, “I mean-Pete,” She put a hand to her chest, “Excuse me! I’m so sorry, I forget, I read in those Guild guides about how-Oh, dear Lord, I never meant to insult you, it’s never been like that in our circle, just a simplified term.”

“Jan-” Her squabbling pulled Pete back in before he could reminisce on his tragic backstory, “Ma’am, I’m like 82 years old, it’s just a bad memory.”

“Oh, of course,” She waved her hand in the air and Josh gave him an incredulous look.

“Holy shit, 82?”

“Joshua,” She gave her nephew a look that made Josh smile.

“Sorry, auntie.”

Pete huffed a laugh, “But, yeah, it’s some old nickname,” He pulled back his lips briefly, “Because of my teeth.”

Jan stopped him before he could hide them again, “I see, may I?” She pointed to his canines, “I saw it there when we met, but now I can see the premolars on the top and bottom too, developed just like how ours would, but definitely more dangerous, pointy, since you are a vampire,” She stood back again, “You’re part of the family!” She clapped, “Lycan ancestry! That’s why you didn’t succumb to Lycan’s blood, Dog-um, Dogteeth already have Lycan’s blood, these just stuck around because you already have the teeth, because of vampirism.”

“You’re lucky then, you didn’t grow a tail.” Josh punched him on the shoulder.

Pete barely registered the words, staring down at his claws, “Oh.”

Jan hesitated, “I’m so sorry you never knew… And then someone goes out of their way to degrade you for it… But it’s something to be proud of! Here, you two have some leftovers for lunch, and I’ll grab some old albums from Grandmother-”

“Has Patrick been fed yet?” Pete cut in, trying to be polite in interrupting her. She blinked.

“Well, I’m sure the mutts have been out there harassing him, but no, not yet,” She straightened, “Let’s set up a plate for him.”

She quickly gathered a few leftovers onto a plate as some of the smaller kids clambered in through the back door, laughing about whatever they had been doing. Laura’s bag was parked right in the entrance, and a few of them tripped over it with shouts of glee before leaving again. Em waved at Pete, her teeth pointed and her eyes yellow, before running after her cousins.

Pete waved back and Josh moved the bag out of the door.

“Here,” Jan handed him a plate of last night’s dinner, “If you see Lee could you tell her I’m looking for her?”

Pete nodded and fumbled with his umbrella.

Josh closed his lighter with a flick and shoved it in his pocket, “Hey, I can come with-?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” Pete shook his head, “I can handle him.”

He left before Josh could respond.

Patrick sat hunched on the dusty floor of the barn. He looked cleaner, his clothes were changed, no doubt belonging to another member of the family. Unlike Pete’s lent clothes they didn’t fit as well, giving Patrick room to twist and lung without ripping them. The lycan’s obviously knew what they were doing.

“Hey, bud,” Pete started forward, into the shade of the barn, “Brought some lunch… Guess what? It’s cooked and everything.”

Patrick huffed but didn’t turn, the chains clanking together as he shifted.

“Oh, now you’re giving me the silent treatment?”

Pete set the plate down on the floor as close as he could bother to Patrick, then took a seat by the collection of blankets and pillows set up in the stall. “Or are you just not hungry? Solving the rat problem around here?”

He couldn’t smell blood, so hopefully, he was wrong.

“Sorry for cooping you up here, Trick, but I’m helping you, I swear, I’m gonna get you back to normal.”

“Hey,” Laura Jane greeted, leaning in the doorway to the barn, Pete gave her a little wave, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I woke up a few hours ago,” Pete kept his eyes on Patrick’s back, “What’s up?”

She leaned against the wall close by, “I went into town this morning, picked up a few books from a friend, his family came from Alchemists, which is where a lot of Warlock’s get their stuff from, I figured I’d start looking into your friend here, I’m gonna stay over like you for the next couple days.”

“What about your investigation?” Pete asked, watching Patrick shift and turn around to inspect the food.

“I had a theory,” Laura tilted her head, “There’s only so much I can look into with the family’s past, and then I just have to move on, so I wondered, maybe it’s the property itself, or some teenagers did a ritual because it looked creepy just out in the woods and the conditions were just right,” Patrick ate the food, crouched and growling, with his hands. “I wanted to start putting wards around the property and the house, it’ll help seal away any negative energy, and keep what’s in, in.”

“Sounds good,” Pete glanced at her then back to Patrick.

Laura paused, “You okay there?”

“Hm? Yeah, fine,” Pete said, “Just tired.”

“I figured,” She nodded to Patrick, “He couldn’t have been the best traveling companion.”

“No,” Pete confirmed, “He can’t really hold a conversation, and he ate my food.”

“Uh-huh,” Laura squinted, “You know if you tell me what’s actually bothering you I can help.”

Pete glanced her way, then back at Patrick, “It’s not like that, I just… got reminded of something I just wanted to forget.”

“Its that Dog thing isn’t it?” Laura nodded, then shrugged when he whipped his head around to look at her, “I spoke to Jan like a second ago, she feels bad about it, honestly, it’s the first time I’ve even heard the term.”

“I just have bad memories of it,” Pete tucked his arms close to his chest, “Back when I was with my Patron.”

She waited for him to elaborate and when he didn’t, she gestured vaguely back at the house, “Well, now you know what it really means, they’ll consider you family, even if you’re a vampire, so you can try and make something good out of it instead.”

Patrick pushed himself to his feet and Pete followed, prepared to stop whatever rampage he might have been planning.

“Do you mind helping me out?” Laura put her knee up to lean, “Just gotta fortify the area around the house, near the edge of the woods, it’s burning these plants and placing little bags of stuff around the property.”

Pete watched Patrick kick at some dirt, then, at the corner of his eye, spotted a flicker at the doorway to the barn. When he turned his head, it was gone, bending away from his gaze and back into hiding. He frowned, securing his umbrella and stepping past Laura to glance outside.

Nothing there, save for a few of the kids play fighting across the yard and Josh walking across the lawn to the forest, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Well?” Laura asked, “Help me out?”

Pete frowned again, but turned back, “Just tell me what you need.”

* * *

**The International Hunter’s Guild Guide to Exorcism**

**By Chuck Negron PhD**

**Hunter; First Class**

Introduction

Your first move before proceeding with any exorcism should be to call your local chapter of the International Hunter’s Guild

_ HAHA PSYCH!!! Here’s what you should really know bc these fucks aren’t gonna tell you SHIT!! _

  * **_**_Laura Jane Grace’s completely defaced copy of The international Hunter’s Guide to Exorcism, simply signed: N.R., Eden. Texas, 2005_**_**

* * *

Laura directed him inside the house, lighting a different group of herbs to burn while wrapped in cloth. “Up and down every corner, start on the second floor, then go up, then all the way back down, it’s like wrapping a band around the middle and then around the top like a present.”

“Then you’re just going around the outside?” Pete asked, slightly relieved he wouldn’t have to lug his umbrella around.

“Who would I be if I made the vampire walk around in the sun?” She punched his shoulder, “This is step one though, I have supplies at home for the spell bags that I have to place around the property, so it’s like, first we strengthen the border to keep whatever’s in, in, then the bags to draw it out, make it unstable and reveal itself.”

Pete nodded, waving goodbye to Patrick and taking the wrapped plants in his hand, holding it tight as it burned. The smoke made him sneeze and Laura chuckled, “Get upstairs, and remember, slowly, every single corner, every single room.”

“Got it.”

“That means the stairs too!” She stepped back outside, “Every corner.”

_ “I got it!” _

Laura laughed, greeting some of the kids. The day was more than halfway over, and the sky was gold with the sinking sun.

It was fast going at first, letting the smoke linger in every corner, and getting up the stairs was easy. Save the dodging of paws and little feet running up and down the steps. Bill, Josh’s father, engaged him in a short conversation about music. Mostly just classic rock, Pete was a distant fan of Ozzy and so was he, they talked about the difference between music then and music now. “Josh and I are fixing up a truck just down the path for him to use,” Bill nodded a ‘see you later’, “Gotta head into town to grab a part, I’ll see you later.”

“Later, Bill,” Pete waved, glad that most of the adults in the family allowed him the use of their first names, seeing as he was older than most of them. Save for Mrs. Dun, she was in charge, and formalities were in line for her no matter what. Pete frowned, slowly dragging the herbs down a corner, he hadn’t seen her all day.

The pace he had set on the stairs soon disappeared, not because Pete was tired, but the way the air had shifted as he set the spell. The atmosphere felt syrupy and his skin was taught, like a piece of tape was stuck to his fingers that he couldn’t get off.

A few of the Mutts passed by, pretending to move in slow motion, dragging out their words and walking like astronauts on the moon. Pete smiled and corralled them back down the stairs.

After hurrying through the second floor, a bit uncomfortable with entering bedrooms that weren’t his, he made his way, slowly, up to the third floor.

It was smaller, only four rooms of mostly storage and he finished quickly. Sighing, he blew on the burning herbs to strengthen the flame, fully prepared to make his way back downstairs.

Until his sharp ears heard a small _ creak _.

Pete frowned and followed the noise. It came from above, through the ceiling.

At the back of the third room, Pete spied something he hadn’t seen before: A pull string tucked away and connected to an entrance to the attic, if pulled, it would bring down a set of stairs, a Louisville Ladder. It reminded Pete of his parents' house, though he was instructed to never go up as the floor wasn’t actually a floor and could cave in if he put weight on it.

Pete paused under the string, listening hard.

A soft heartbeat, and another _ creak. _

Laura hadn’t told him about this, and he hesitated to pull the string, unsure if the herbs were needed, and unsure of the identity of the person inside.

“Pete!”

Laura was calling from the second floor and Pete jerked his hand away from the string.

“Yeah?”

“You done up there?”

“Uh,” Pete looked back up at the pull-down staircase, “Yeah! I’m done!”

He met her at the second-floor staircase, “Let’s do the first floor together,” She said, “I’m done outside, we can finish up and help Uncle Stephen with dinner.”

Pete agreed, thoughts turning back to the pull-down stairs for just a moment before following her.

When they finished, the molasses disappeared, but the house and the property still felt blanketed by something that settled on Pete’s skin like a wet shirt.

“I won’t be kept in right?” He stood in the doorway of the house, the sun sinking slowly behind the trees.

“No, not unless you’re being possessed by a negative spirit,” Laura spoke into her flip phone, head bent as she went through her contacts, “And I don’t _ think _ negative demeanors count.”

“Haha,” Pete tilted his head to listen to a few of the kids as they chattered about whatever game they were playing. “So same thing tomorrow?”

“Sort of, I need more supplies,” Laura looked up from her phone, “I was thinking maybe it’s unstable, or stuck between its world and this one so it can’t be properly drawn out, I’m going to work with a friend in town to modify a spell to get it unstuck, otherwise if we try to push it back it’ll just get caught and come back.”

“So we’re gonna make it more dangerous?” Pete quirked his brow.

Laura shrugged, “I’ll be able to contain it now, I’m making the wards as strong as I can just in case this thing is crazy insane powerful.”

Pete heard Josh before he saw him.

“What’s crazy insane powerful?” He appeared from around a corner of the house, coming from the woods, and Laura jumped, grabbing her heart.

“Jesus _ fuck _, Josh-”

“Sorry,” Josh smiled, “Still talking about the negative energies? Because honestly, I think it’s just my cousin Derek, he’s going through a phase.”

“Says you,” Laura snorted, “With the flat-ironed hair and lip ring.”

“Nothing wrong with flat-ironed hair,” Pete shoved his hands in his pockets, “Chemical sticks better though.” He exchanged a nod with Josh, who pointed at him, thankful.

“Yeah and I pull off the lip ring because I listen to good music,” Josh leaned against the outer wall of the house, parallel to Laura, “Nothing wrong with Mall Goths, but he’s a dumbass.”

“Tell you what,” Laura slipped her phone in her back pocket, “If you get him into pastels and the nightmares go away, I’ll pay you.”

Pete frowned, “You’re having nightmares too?”

Josh shifted, smile fading, “Some, I guess, I never know what they’re about though,” He kicked at the grass, “So what uh- What are you planning for tomorrow?”

Laura gave him a brief summary of what she had told Pete, leaving Josh with a puzzled expression. Pete joked that he didn’t get it either and Josh laughed, “Uh, yeah, it’s all that Witch vocab.” He still frowned, confused. “Oh, um, can I ask you something?”

Laura crossed her arms, “What’s up?”

“Do you really think it’s one of the kids? Or what if they knew and just weren’t saying anything?”

Laura shifted, scratching her arm absentmindedly, “I haven’t really thought about who _ specifically _ it is, but younger kids are easier to possess, it’s kinda the only thing Hollywood gets right when they have ‘creepy kid’ movies, you know?” Josh nodded, “But as for not saying anything? I think it has to do with how far the spirit has gotten in taking control, they might not be able to fight for control until the host is vulnerable, but they can still sort of hold the host back from saying certain things, or it can make the host forget stuff or make it harder for the host to process information, just to keep itself safe… I told Pete earlier that I think this spirit is being held back, caught between here and there, like its foot went through a broken plank crossing a bridge or something, so it might not even be fully in control of what it’s doing, like making all these nightmares and accidents happen, like it’s trying to work around something, usually it should have way more control than this so nobody can pick up on it.”

“So…” Josh frowned a little deeper, “So it might not even know what it’s doing?”  
  
Laura shrugged, “It’s a working theory, that’s why I’m gonna try and summon it first to push it back, like a bait and switch, offer a line to pull it through then slam the door shut in their face.”

Josh scratched at his scalp, “Huh.”

“We live in a weird universe,” Laura tilted her head, “Hey, Mrs. Dun,” She waved behind Pete.

Mrs. Dun waved back, smiling at Pete, “Haven’t seen you two all day!”

“Working hard, ma’am,” Laura smiled.

“Of course,” Mrs. Dun nodded, “Josh, can you get to the kitchen and help your uncle start dinner?” Josh groaned, but stomped past Pete. “Oh, I know it _ sucks, _” She winked at Pete. Laura caught up and began to tell her about the progress they had made in strengthening the house and Mrs. Dun took it all in stride. 

Pete noticed the way the family bent around her, the respect they had for their matriarch, even the little ones giving her a glance as she passed. She wasn’t a scary looking woman, but Pete felt intimidated anyway.

Dinner was pasta, a meaty spaghetti sauce with linguine and parmesan cheese that Pete thought was heavenly, like every other meal he’d had since arriving. The kids were covered in sauce as the meal went on, and Pete's stomach growled even as he ate his fill. He’d have to find a small animal or something to eat later, just a small snack for blood.

He sat next to Ashley, Josh’s younger sister, at dinner. They traded stories from school, amazingly. Pete told her about high school in the ’40s and 50’s and according to her, the experience hadn’t really improved.

“It’s so crazy though,” She smiled, “What does it feel like? To not like, get older?”

Pete scratched at his face, absent-minded, not feeling as overwhelmed as he had been the other night. Ashley was simply curious, and not begging for a demonstration. 

“I mean it’s still like you're getting older,” He squinted, trying to figure out the phrasing, “But it’s more in your head, like things have stopped, I won’t age anymore and I won’t feel the effects of getting older, but in my head, I still feel older.” Ashley nodded, fascinated.

“So you’re mentally old? You don’t get all the modern stuff?”

“No, no,” Pete laughed, digging into his pasta, “I get it, I’m still in my twenties, sort of, but at the same time, I’m aware that I’m older than everybody here, like I’m just a little displaced, but I’m not gonna get _ dementia _or whatever.”

Their talks went on, extending the conversation to add in Laura, or Abigail, asking questions about vampires and lycanthropy. But as the night went on, Ashley seemed to get more and more distant, her replies short, sometimes confused. Pete reckoned she was just tired.

They wished each other goodnight after cleanup with Ashley yawning wide, dazed as she followed her sister up to their room.

Pete prepared Patrick’s dinner in a Tupperware and left him to eat as he hunted down a squirrel. It died with a squeak that made Pete guilty as hell, even while its blood ran down his chin. He buried it in a shallow grave behind a bush and headed inside.

Abigail, Josh’s other sister. was already in the bathroom as he stepped in to brush his teeth.

“Oh, sorry!” Pete backed out quick and she laughed.

“I’m just brushing my teeth!” She said, muffled behind toothpaste foam, “It’s fine.”

Pete sighed in relief, and she pushed his shoulder, “I’d close the door if I was actually doing something.”

Pete nodded, “Yeah, yeah.”

She leaned on the vanity, “So you’re trying to exorcise the house, I heard,” She leaned in closer, “Seen any demons yet? Or spinning heads?”

“Uh, no,” Pete spit into the sink, “We’re trying to drag it out right now, expose it so we can push it back to wherever it came from.”

Abigail hummed, sitting on the vanity, “So you’re still playing Clue.”

Pete frowned, “How do you mean?”

“Well, all these strange happenings going on, the nightmares, you’re still guessing at who it actually is,” She tilted her head, “Like: ‘In the library with the candelabra’, but is it Mr. Plum causing all the nightmares or Colonel Mustard killing all the animals?”

Her posture shifted, “I think it’s Em, you know her,” Abigail’s voice dropped and Pete looked over his shoulder, wondering if she was telling him a secret with the way she was whispering. “Or Ashley, did you see her during dinner?” She twisted a finger by her ear, then dropped her hand on Pete’s shoulder, he flinched, but she held. “She was totally out of it, she’s been doing that since you got here with your friend, I thought maybe she had a crush.” Pete frowned.

“I think she’s just curious,” He kept his eyes on the sink, but Abigail had gotten strangely close to him. His spine crawled.

“Oh yeah, probably, she just annoys me sometimes, you know, sister stuff,” She twisted around him to grab the open door and Pete’s head spun, Abby went rigid. His heart pounded. She shut the door with a click, then spun back around to face him. He stepped back, heart pounding.

“Abby-”

Abby grunted, frowning, then gave him a playful shove that pushed him back a few steps, “It’s so stupid, but she’s been acting so weird lately, I thought maybe she’s the one being possessed-” She lunged at him and he dodged, not wanting to touch her in case his strength hurt her, his back went against the door and her knees collided with the bathtub.

She grunted and he fumbled with the door handle, “Abby, this isn’t you-” She turned to him and her eyes were shining silver, snarling. Pete gasped and flung the door open, tripping into the hallway and almost slamming the door behind him. He fell onto his butt in the dark hallway, but she didn’t follow him.

“It is me,” She said, “It’s been me for so long, protecting this family-”

He scrambled back to his room and locked the door behind him.

Laura had mentioned the way the entity could affect people, make them do things they wouldn’t usually. Pete wrapped his arms around his torso, his skin feeling itchy. He double-checked the lock and his hands shook, wishing he had a cell phone, or that he could talk to Patrick again.

Pacing for a minute in front of his bed, he wondered if it had been real.

“No,” He shook his head, “No.” He snatched the remote and turned on the TV to talk over his racing heart.

Late-night news, it would have a segment on Patrick, he switched to Cartoon Network and changed out of his clothes. His fingers clumsy over his jeans and running through his hair.

He needed a shower, but feared Abby, under some demon’s control or not, which she had to be. He buried himself under the heavy blankets and forced himself to stop breathing so unevenly. He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, exactly, but his dream remained the same.

The same push and the pit of darkness, except the whisper in his ear overtook the other voice, the white claws melting into smoke and Pete was left needing to catch his breath. The whispers spoke in a language incomprehensible.

The knock at his door woke him up bright and early at nine in the morning.

“Laura,” He smiled, and she smiled back, wearing her usual dark ensemble of ripped shirts and jeans. “Hey.”

“Don’t want you to miss breakfast,” She followed him in, “Door was locked, didn’t want any mutts running around?”

Pete remembered the events of the last night with a chill that set his tangled hair on end.

“Yeah, they… they were really running around last night,” He nodded, standing to shakily put on a shirt, “Just blocking out the noise.”

Laura chuckled, “They can get rowdy, yeah,” She stood, “Alright, breakfast, then work,” She clapped the doorframe on the way out, “No slacking, bloodsucker!” Pete snorted, listening to her clamber down the stairs.

He met Abby at the top of the stairs.

She looked tired, her eyes dark, but she smiled at him anyway. “Hey, good morning.”

“Hey…” Pete tensed, “Sleep well?”

“I thought so,” She shrugged, “I had the worst nightmare, though, but you know, demon possession and stuff going on.”

“Right,” Pete nodded, “What… What was the nightmare?”

“I have no idea,” She laughed, leading the way down the stairs, “Ash woke me up after a while, said I was talking in my sleep, I am so ready to be done with all of this shit, like, I have stuff to do, I hope you guys find it soon.”

Pete agreed, letting her fill him in on other stuff, teenage lycanthropy and trips to Eden’s one strip mall, plus all the stuff going on with Britney Spears. Abby could talk about so much in so little time, nevermind her trying to attack Pete again. He tried to think of it as maybe she had been tired, or hungry, though probably not. 

“So she’s like… incredible, like a real inspiration,” She continued, “So I’m like, of course she has to be on our side you know? She has to be a part of this whole world, because how else could she speak to my soul?”

“I have no idea,” Pete followed her into the kitchen, letting her choose the cereal, “But she sounds like she’s making history.”

“She really is,” Abby smiled, then halted, turning her attention to Laura as she entered, “Let me guess, you want me out?” Laura nodded, taking a seat across from Pete.

“Can’t conduct business when the demon could be looking through your eyes,” She put on an over-exaggerated voice to seem mysterious, “But seriously, get out.”

Abby stuck her tongue out at her, but collected her breakfast and trundled tiredly back upstairs to eat in her room. Pete barely had time to watch her leave before Laura launched into their goal for the day.

She gave him strict instructions on what they would do next, outlining the supplies she had stocked in her truck from home. “It’ll be easy-peasy, just like yesterday,” Pete wiped his mouth, setting the bowl in the sink with the rest of the dishes, “But it’s like little hex bags, it’s a little expensive, but it’s straight from the Guild’s_ Exorcist Handbook _ , and they’re _ good. _” She stressed this last point with a quirk of her eyebrows.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Pete smiled. Through the window, Pete gave a small wave to Josh, who smiled before getting tackled by one of his cousins, Em, and her crew. 

There were claws and teeth, but they landed soft, and Pete watched Josh push through the mutts and his face shifted like it had when Pete had first met him. His ears pointed and his nose flattened, but he didn’t seem exactly dangerous.

After a moment of hesitation, he told her what had happened between him and Abby.

Laura took it calmly, and said: “I’m so sorry, Pete, it sounds like it really freaked you out.”

Pete nodded, “The way she spoke… and what she said about protecting the family-”

“For years, yeah,” Laura thought about it, “I’ll think about it, but the best advice I can give you is put it behind you, for now, and keep an eye on Abby, you think you can do that?”

Pete sighed, “Yeah,” Laura smiled encouragingly, then clapped. 

“Help me bring the stuff in from my truck?” Laura stood, straightening her shirt.

“Oh, yeah sure,” Pete followed her, grabbing his umbrella on the way out the door.

Ashley waved at him across the yard, knee-deep in a vegetable garden with some other cousins, Pete’s head spun trying to remember which ones they were, or if these were simply just new family members he hadn’t met yet.

“What the fuck?!” Laura exclaimed. Pete jumped back to her side as she threw open the door to her truck, “The fuck?!”

“What?” He glanced in past her shoulder, seeing nothing.

“My shit! It’s _ gone _, what the fuck!”

“Hey, it’s probably just tucked under something-”

“Do you see anything for it to be tucked under, Pete?” She gestured to the seat. Pete found she was right, and also in the possession of the cleanest backseat of a car in history. “Someone here, they fucking got their demon-possessed ass up and stole my shit… _ fuck _.”

Pete shifted from foot to foot, “Well, hey, you can get more, maybe-”

“Oh and I suppose you just have money laying around?” She snapped, looking exhausted, “It’s getting a step ahead, it stole out of my car in broad daylight, and how much do you want to bet this entire family didn’t see a thing?”

“I heard a commotion,” Josh was walking up, hands tucked into his basketball shorts, he gave a quick wave to Pete, “Hey.”

Pete smiled, glad to see him. 

“My shit was fucking stolen,” Laura stood, “Got any ideas, nature boy?”

“Wow, harsh,” Josh showed her his palms, “It’ll be okay, maybe I can help you sniff them out.” Laura gestured to the car, relenting.

“Go ahead.”

“Oh, meanwhile,” Josh turned to Pete, “My mom wanted to see you, she’s over past the coop, by the sandbox.”

Pete frowned, taken by surprise, “What does she want with me?”

Josh was already climbing into the backseat, but looked back at him, “I don’t know, just wants to talk I guess?”

Pete frowned, walking backward and whispering to himself, “Talk?” He swiveled on his heel and made his way around the house, listening to the younger kids entertain Patrick. Or at least he hoped they were, Pete couldn’t tell any difference between his frequent snarls and growls, or whether one was happy or not. But they did get particularly angry sounding when Pete passed.

Over the past few days, the chains Pete had used to restrain Patrick had gotten longer as the Dun’s added to it, letting Patrick step outside of the barn and giving him more room to move. Pete had spoken to Jordan about it and had learned the less Patrick struggled, the less there was a chance of Patrick pulling the barn down on top of himself. The thought made Pete shiver, already dealing with the oppressive guilt that hit him whenever he caught a glimpse of Patrick’s smiling face on the news.

During his time walking across state lines and avoiding public areas,, he’d gotten in the habit of telling himself: _ “These are the consequences of kidnapping and dragging a white boy across the country, Pete.” _It had only helped for a few days, which was just his luck.

But it had gotten easier to avoid him, now that he was here.

Which of course, only cultivated his guilt.

He passed the chicken coop and Earl the cat rubbed against his leg.

“Hi kitty,” Pete gripped his umbrella tight in his fists and smiled, “Eat any chickens lately?”

Earl meowed something raspy and Pete couldn’t help but crouch down to pet him, curling into a ball to stay in the umbrella’s shadow, “I get it,” Earl purred as Pete scratched his head, taking care to not scratch him with his blackened nails, “I’m the one that has _ chickensucker _ for a nickname.” A stab of a different type of guilt-wracked through his body. “Good thing the wet dog smell is stronger than blood, right?”

“There you are!” Mrs. Dun’s voice called, “Thought Josh had forgotten, but I get it now,” She smiled and her voice went up an octave, “Bastard cat, are you getting attention?” Earl hurried to rub her legs as well and Pete stood, listening to her make fun of Earl. Slowly, light gray clouds moved to cover the sun, leaving Pete to breathe a little easier.

“I was hoping you and I could catch up,” Mrs. Dun turned back to him, “Get to know each other, you know?” She smiled, looking the total part of a cheesy soccer mom in her jeans and conservative blouse. Pete wondered what she looked like when the wolf came out. “What with you staying in my house and all, why don’t we head out?”

“Head out,” Pete paused, “Like, out?”

“Yeah, we can head to the grocery store, I need to pick up a few things, I’m sure Laura Jane can handle herself, I’ve got my favorite kid helping her out.”

A distant yell came from the house: _ “I heard that!” _Probably from Jordan’s room.

Mr. Dun’s voice followed: _ “She’s right!” _

Pete laughed and Mrs. Dun whispered, “Lycans, am I right?” But she softened, “Jordan’s really got the best ears in the family, takes after his grandma… But what do you say, Pete? You and I, let’s take a trip, we’re supposed to get some rain here in a bit, should keep you shielded.”

Pete hesitated, but eventually folded to her offer, following her down the trail to the garage and buckling himself into the passenger seat of a small, blue, flatbed truck. “Kids cleared the trail up here, so no more motion sickness and Laura Jane complained enough. Stephen and I, you know, we usually walk to work, kids usually walk to school, being how we are, it’s no sweat.” She tossed him a smile as the truck ran over some sticks, crunching under the car’s weight. Pete returned it, closed mouth. 

“It must be even easier for you,” She continued, “Vampire speed and all that… How fast do you suppose you can run on a good day?”

Pete shrugged, “Uh… I could keep up with a car on the highway.”

“Wow!” She steered the car onto a gravel street, marking Pete’s first time out of the woods since arriving at the Dun’s home. “Now Ashley’s my fastest and I don’t know about that, damn near seventy miles per hour… Even if she could, you have me telling her she won’t.” She laughed, and Pete nodded, smiling.

He had a feeling his speed and strength weren’t really what she wanted to talk about, and he swiped his tongue over his teeth. In the pockets of his hoodie, his nails caught on the fabric. As she drove, Mrs. Dun pointed out the various shops in Eden, and a few of its citizens, talking on end about their jobs and small-town drama.

Pete tried to listen, but heard that little voice at the back of his mind:

_ Dogteeth. _

_ A mongrel, but I took him in, of course, we must always practice mercy. _

“Here we are,” Mrs. Dun parked the car, “Grab the list for me? It’s there in the center.”

Pete complied, opening the door and unfolding his umbrella as fast as he could. Lucky, the sun was covered by clouds.

It was a local establishment, filled with knockoff brands and egregiously low prices, but it was all home-grown and reminded Pete of going to the grocery store with his mom, who didn’t like going to the fancy chain stores downtown where people had a tendency to stare. . 

Mrs. Dun picked a cart with a tricky wheel, and the air conditioning rattled, mingling with the sound of the checkout, beeping distantly.

Being around normal, Sightless, people again, Pete became aware of the dim hunger that had settled at the bottom of his stomach. He guessed that was probably why the chickens had seemed so tempting as of late.

If he’d been home, he would have called Jack before it got any worse.

He really missed his dealer all of a sudden, then wondered if such a lycan heavy town even had a local dealer or even a bank that wasn’t in the hospital. Now, walking behind Mrs. Dun, blood was all he could think about. Just: blood, blood, _ blood _ . Maybe it was a vampire thing because he wasn’t starving, not in the least. It might have been studied by the Guild by this point, something about baser instincts and primal nature, that back-to-basics, just-Turned, newly awoken animal need: _ Feed, feed, feed _.

Pete forced himself to think about that footage of Patrick’s crying mother to shake himself out of it, and handed Mrs. Dun the brand of cereal she was looking for. 

In the yogurt aisle, she finally addressed the elephant.

“I guess you know I didn’t ask you here out of need, you know I could carry these groceries all by myself,” She gestured to their full cart, mostly filled with bulk packages, her laugh was a bit strained, “But… Jan told me about you and of course, I know… I don’t want to antagonize you.”

“No it’s…” Pete frowned, “You’re not… It’s just not something I feel is worth talking about.” He winced, knowing he sounded short.

“Well it’s not something that you should be ashamed of,” Mrs. Dun loaded a carton of juice into the cart, “It’s a family, and now that you know what it is-”

“Lee,” Pete bit the inside of his lip, “I’m not one of you, whatever evidence there is in my ancestry.”

“I’m aware,” Mrs. Dun chided, pausing as a Sightless wheeled their cart down the aisle, “The politics are different, the word means something else, but you’re here now and of course we have to extend an olive branch, our species haven’t been in opposition since Association was established-”

“I have more important things to worry about, Lee,” Pete suddenly felt his real age, “Like Patrick, and helping Laura, I haven’t thought about this shit in decades, I don’t care how nice your family is, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Mrs. Dun sighed in such a way that it sounded like a growl, but she relented, “I get it,” She said, nodding robotically, “I stepped into something I shouldn’t have.”

Pete nodded, fingering his umbrella, which was closed and wrapped tight.

“I’ll drop it.”

“It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“I know,” Mrs. Dun straightened, “You are… a few decades older, you’ve been through it more than I have, vampires, lycans, magic and demons and all that, you know, sometimes I wish I could be Sightless.”

“Hm,” Pete tilted his head.

The drive back to the house was a bit quieter, and Pete couldn’t read Mrs. Dun’s expression, trying to decide if she appeared miffed or completely neutral.

His stomach growled.

* * *

** _QUESTIONS FOR VAMPYRE_ **

_ ← Spelling by Uncle Stephen _

  * __Does blood taste good?__

_ yes _

  * __What sunscreen works for you?__

_ none _

  * __Can you bite us?__

_ no _

  * __Do you have a job?__

_ no _

  * __How old are you?__

_ Technically 82 _

  * __What’s your favorite color?__

_ black/red _

  * **_**_Incomplete list by the Dun Children, answered, Eden, Texas, 2005 _**_**

* * *

Laura woke him up the next morning, bright and early, which was beginning to take its toll on Pete, who happened to be nocturnal and in a bad mood, as he informed her.

“Oh shut up,” She dumped her bag of new supplies on his bed, “You Night Children are always so dramatic, and I have to deal with house calls from the Church of the Dark Arts, they take the book of Wicca_ so _seriously.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, good, because they’re sworn to secrecy.”

Pete rolled over. His hunger had gotten more noticeable in his sleep, offhand, he listened to Laura’s heartbeat. “I’m sick of this,” He said, “Too many kids, bad dreams, getting in my business.”

Laura was silent for a minute, laying out some clothes for him, which was nice of her, Pete grunted his thanks.

“Well… I’ll talk to them about etiquette, I did tell you lycans can get nosy, I think it’s the whole: ‘We have a really good sense of smell, so we have to know everything about you’, you know?”

Pete shook his head but slid out of bed anyway.

“Hey we don’t even have to leave the house today,” Laura assured him, “Since we’re fortifying the wood, making it holy, so the demon won’t be able to leave at all, I’m thinking of maybe setting up even more wards in the basement, and then we can banish it there.”

Pete slipped the t-shirt on over his head, the back announcing a Soap Box Derby in 2003, which was too bad since he would've liked to attend..

“We still gotta figure out who it is.”

“Don’t remind me,” Laura’s tone soured. “I’ve had a list going, I ruled out baby Jane, since she can’t bend her fingers all the way yet, all the parents are out, even Em and her crew, though they’re all from hell if you ask me, maybe a few of the toddlers, even Aunt Jan, she’s secretive as ever…”

“What about Abby, or Ashley?” Pete kept his eyes on the floor.

“Haven't ruled them out completely based on what you told me,” Laura paused, “You know… I say this out loud and then I find new answers to how it might actually the people I’ve ruled out, maybe it is baby Jane because she’s barely her own person right now? And the thing could be feeding off of her and influencing other people-”

“Influence,” Pete grabbed her arm to calm her, “I could try Influencing the answer.”

“What, just…” A clear discomfort shown on her face, “I mean it’s…”

“I’d have to figure out how to phrase the question,” Pete stepped back, noticing her sudden pale at the mention of Influence, “But I won’t hurt anyone.”

“I don’t know,” Laura said, “Their lives are already turned upside down, I don’t… That might be going too far.”

Pete pressed, “It could work, and we could stop this thing before it gets any more powerful.”

Laura pressed the supplies to his chest, “Breakfast, then this, then _ maybe _ I’ll think about it.”

She left the room and he examined the materials, little hex bags filled with herbs and made magic through crystals and other methods. Pete could smell the magic, something sour and fizzy like pop that crackled in the air around it.

Something about Laura’s reaction to his suggestion bit at him.

She’d had issues with vampires before, but Pete had no clue what they could have been, but she had to see the sense in his suggestion. He thought about it as he accepted breakfast made by Mr. Dun, two waffles and raspberries picked from the property. 

He was still hungry.

Laura met him again a few minutes later in a better mood, and explained what she wanted him to do with the hexes, while she stuck to the basement. “Stick to the ground levels, then go up.”

“What about the attic?”

“Shouldn’t matter,” She shrugged, “We don’t want it too high, it’ll stretch the spell thin.”

He nodded, “And you’ll think about my idea?”

Laura didn’t answer, but waved her hand as she left.

Pete let himself get drawn into the work, retracing the pattern he’d made the last time. He burned the hex bag partially on a cast iron skillet this time, borrowed from the kitchen, letting it get charred and black. Then, he’d place it high and concealed, on a shelf or a divet in the wall or in a vent. He was aided by the haphazard construction of the house, appearing ramshackle but perfectly sturdy underneath. As he placed the burned bags, he noticed the way the foundation in that area pulsed, something strong that combined with the smoke from their first round. Even after they got this demon, Pete figured, the house would be fortified for ages to come.

He’d made his way up to the last room in the house, the one with the Louisville ladder, and took a moment to admire Laura’s handiwork. The last bag burned, smelling sweet and sour, the cloth folding in on itself and as it finished, Pete heard a voice.

No voice he recognized, it was high and refined, relaxed and almost business-like, but strained.

It was coming from the floor above.

Pete hurried and placed the hex bag, trying to listen.

The Louisville ladder unfolded and he panicked, looking around for a hiding place. The hex bag pulsed, but here it had been suppressed by something stronger.

_ The demon _. It had to be-

The voice paused.

Then resumed as Pete hurried, silent down the stairs to try and look over the ledge.

“-As long as we understand each other,” It was a man, Pete tried to pick something familiar out of the voice but couldn’t, “I’d never hurt him, but it takes so much effort to push this far through, you know, but knowing you won’t interfere, is a comfort, Orla, you've done enough damage.” Pete crept up the stairs as much as he could, but could only catch a glance at a pair of loafers on the top step of the ladder. Pete chastised himself because _ of course _, he didn’t memorize everyone’s shoes or something.

The voice took a step down and Pete ducked.

“You have a good night-” The voice faltered, “-A good… _ fuck- _ I-” Something familiar came through, then disappeared just as quickly. “Best wishes.”

The voice clambered down the steps, but by then, Pete had to evacuate or risk a fight with a demon.

He found Laura at lunch, taking her place in a sandwich assembly line next to her to whisper in her ear. 

“It’s a guy, but that’s all I know-”

Laura grabbed his arm, keeping a firm grip on his arm as the rest of the kids hurried to make their sandwiches, “What?”

“I didn’t see much, and the voice was different, but it’s definitely possessing a man, they were up in the attic, I had to get out fast or they would have seen me.”

“What did they sound like?”

They had ushered themselves in a corner away from the rest of the kids.

“Like a lawyer, but it was strained like it had to make an effort to keep speaking.” He told her everything he’d heard.

“So it is stretched, like I said,” Laura nodded, “It’s caught between worlds, if it still can’t assume its host's place, it must be getting desperate, but with that much effort, there has to be a tell by now, the host must be exhausted.”

The two of them looked back at the small group of family that had gathered for lunch, munching on their sandwiches. Josh smiled sweet and gave a quick wave before turning to talk to his cousins.

“Fuck,” Laura shook her head, “Just hold tight, I need one more night to set the basement up, at the least, but now that we have it confined to the tight circle around the house it’ll do anything in its power to assume complete power over the host and escape, or do something worse than kill small animals.”

Pete nodded.

“They’re terrified,” Pete told her, “I can smell it.” Laura nodded sadly.

The sandwich was an empty snack.

He spent the rest of the day laying on Josh’s bed, having been invited to listen to his records while he worked on his summer homework. “I want to get it out of the way as fast as possible, you know? I think I can get into college with a Marching scholarship, but grades still freak me out.”

Pete stared straight up at the ceiling, weaving his fingers and resting his hands on his chest.

He wondered if Patrick had summer homework back home.

“Did you go to high school?”

“Mmhm,” Pete answered, “Didn’t graduate.”

“Oh,” Josh nodded, turning back to his desk as the Animals began to sing about how they had to get out of this place.

For a second it was just Pete and his hunger, and he wondered if it was stronger all of a sudden because of the forest just outside, full of small mammals, or if it was the energy from the demon or something. Someone had once told him that vampires had once thirsted without end, their only goal to feed or turn if only to strengthen the brood and make hunting easier.

Pete thought it was horseshit.

Josh’s pencil snapped in half, surprising both of them. He laughed, “I didn’t know I was holding it that hard.”

Laura later emerged from the basement, her arms and legs were covered in chalk. She smelled like magic, the same kind that had covered her hex bags: a fizzy pop that made Pete’s nose itch. “One more night,” She said, “And then we’ll be in the endgame.”

And then she could save Patrick.

Patrick, of course, didn’t seem to mind waiting just a bit longer. June was still hanging on for one more week, and Pete didn’t want to think about Patrick’s mother, now sitting at home, desperate to hear anything from her son.

“You’ll talk to her soon ‘Trick,” Pete stared into his golden eyes, “I swear, you’ll be home, Laura’s been researching this thing all week.”

Patrick growled, eating his lunch of leftover meat and broccoli.

In fact, her updates had been sparse, but Pete didn’t have the time anymore to doubt her. She was being stretched thin because of the Dun family, all clamoring for answers whether subtle or unsubtle. He was surprised she’d even been researching it at all with how tired she seemed.

She had been giving Patrick stuff to eat, stuff that reminded Pete of the mixture Bebe had given him to sleep, as well as burning more sage and other plants.

He’d yet to see any actual magic besides the things she had done to the house. But there were a few more crystals in the barn than they had started with.

“I know the real you is in there,” Pete wanted to grab his hand, “I know that… That you hate my guts, and I should have just stayed out of your life, but I kinda consider you my best friend right now so I would really like it if maybe… Maybe you can help on your end, push through, do something so I know this isn’t a lost cause…”

Patrick was licking his fingers, and his hair stuck up at odd angles, but he managed to give Pete another growl.

Pete sighed, “Right.”

That night, Pete ate dinner alone in his room, watching cartoons as the family shouted at each other downstairs.

Again, dinner was amazing, but in the end, the pit in his stomach could only be filled with one thing and by one in the morning, it got to be too bothersome to ignore. After twisting and turning, trying to sleep, he threw his blankets off and pulled his shirt and shoes on, noting the sneakers were looking close to falling apart after just a short week with the Duns.

He tiptoed down the stairs and out the door.

The woods were teeming with life, crickets chirping in the dark and fireflies drifting in and out of sight, Pete let the sound of tiny beating hearts guide him. 

For a while, he was almost in a trance, tracking a bigger and bigger meal, an endless hunt that stretched the hours into days. He had never felt exactly like himself whenever he did this, like he was watching from the outside as his body relied on instinct. An instinct that had programmed itself into him from the moment he had been Turned. His eyes reflected light, his expression dull and his body tense, it was natural, and Pete might have even enjoyed it if it wasn’t so terrifyingly _ not _ him.

He paused.

The animal paused.

In one swift motion, lunging forward over the undergrowth, his claws had caught the fur of a raccoon and he had his mouth around it in that second, just as a shout echoed its way through the trees from the house. With blood running down his chin, Pete came back to himself, wide-eyed and unable to let go of his light snack. His hands and face splattered with red, the light reflected in eyes blazed a violent orange.

Nothing mattered except blood.

He probably looked like a wild animal, bloody and struck dumb and clutching his prey close, trying to puzzle what was happening beyond the trees.

The raccoon fell to the ground, dead.

It was_ fire _.

A yell caught in Pete’s throat.

The chicken coop had been set ablaze, it’s back wall and the roof roaring with heat, the chickens screaming. Ashley had been the one to shout, rooted to one spot and panicking as her uncles and father struggled with the hose on the other side of the house, Mrs. Dun barked at the other adults and her sons, who clattered around, searching for buckets, anything to stop the blaze.

Pete stumbled out from the forest edge, still dripping with blood, and made eye contact with Ashley, who could only scream at the sight of him. Laura had muscled her way in with help with the hose but was just as surprised, gaping at the sight of him.

Pete ignored it, looking to the coop as a group of hens were making their escape, wings up and screaming as they jumped to safety. Pete hurried to intercept them, pushing the stragglers back farther before jumping into the coop for himself as its back wall became engulfed in flames.

Abby shrieked when she saw him, struggling to unlatch the rest of the chickens from their cages. “Oh my god!” Her eyes were glowing yellow, her hair getting twisted in the air coming off the blaze. She recovered within that split second, however, “Get the chicks! The chicks!” She freed another hen that screamed as soon as it could run and pointed furiously at him, “They’re more scared of the heat than they are of you!”

Pete nodded and turned the corner to see the chicks, tiny and yellow, chirping wildly as the heat hit them in waves. They were so small that Pete felt like crying. Instead, he wiped his hands on his jeans and made a basket with the front of his jacket, gathering them in one by one and avoiding touching them with his claws as best he could. Behind him, a rooster cried and Abby pushed the petrified hens along as fast as she could, gathering eggs with reckless abandon.

The chicks tumbled out onto the cold ground outside just as the hose was pulled loose. The wood walls cracked and sparked and Pete hurried back inside. 

Abby was coughing as she let the last few hens go, “Get out!”

“There could be more!”

“That wall is gonna collapse,” She pulled at his arm, “Those chickens are dead!”

It was only a few to which she was referring, but there were tears in her eyes anyway. The roof caught as she gathered the last few chicks in her arms, “Let’s go!”

After the roof, the support beam caught by proximity, then the straw in the cages burst, bringing a group of cages to a flame. Abby pulled again on his sleeve when he hesitated, hearing something faint.

“You go!” He pushed her, licking the blood from his lips and wiping sweat from his forehead, “I’ll be fine! I heal fast.”

She didn’t fight, needing to get the chicks out before she could care about him, and he tripped past a group of collapsed cages, hearing scratching sounds coming from the back. He stopped to try and listen through the roar of the fire, resting his hand on a metal bar that sizzled at his touch. He hissed, flinching away to watch the burns fade just as fast.

The scratching turned into a loud yowl, and the coop groaned, the water from the hose and the buckets only doing so much. Pete could hear the water as it pounded against the walls and scrambled to what he was looking for under cages and chicken wire.

Earl the cat was huddled under a tarp and smoldering wood, too frightened to move even as Pete pulled him out, positioning him as comfortably as possible in his arms, almost soaked through with sweat. 

“Damn cat,” Pete squeezed him close, holding back the tears of blood that prickled at his eyes as he blinked away the smoke.

The wall cracked and fell inward.

Pete tucked Earl’s tiny head close to his chest and rushed back outside just as the wall fell completely, leaving the roof to cave in on itself. Earl was shivering like a kitten.

Pete stood still, turning back to watch the Dun’s work to put out the fire, with Laura manning the hose.

He blinked, the fire burning a temporary imprint into his eyes.

Someone was crying.

The fire was being contained now, the blaze reduced to a bonfire, and the chickens running wild as the smaller kids hurried to collect them.

Pete looked to the edge of the forest, the opposite side he had gone in. 

He followed the sound, letting Earl go as he started to struggle.

Then, after a few feet into the woods, hidden behind a tree and thick foliage, sat Jordan.

He was covered in soot, like Pete, and his knees were tucked up to his chest. His hands were shaking, and in them, he clutched a small book of matches. Close by, an empty bottle of scotch pulled from his father’s liquor cabinet.

He was sobbing, tears flowing fast down his cheeks, staring straight ahead as his fingers frayed the edge of the book. His expression was empty, but his breath shook with each gasp of air.

“Oh, Jordan…” Pete whispered, pity welling up inside him.

Jordan looked up at him, terror filling his eyes, “I-” He sobbed, “I didn’t- I-” He shook his head, desperate, “It wasn’t me!”

“Jordan!” Jan shrieked, “What is this?”

“No!” Jordan panicked, eyes flying from Pete and back to her, “No, Auntie, I-”

“It’s him, being controlled,” Pete stepped up to defend him, but Jordan was shaking like a leaf, trying to stand. Pete bent to hoist him up and Laura met them as they stood, checking Jordan’s pupils and even his pulse as he began to cry.

The rest of the family crowded them as they walked back to the house, the chickens getting corralled by the younger children. Pete lost his grip on Jordan and let them shy away from him when they noticed his bloody face but felt… Something.

Something watching him.

He paused, watching the family herd themselves into the house, letting Laura examine Jordan.

Then, he looked up.

At the highest window, where the attic would be. In it, he strained to see anything past the darkness.

A flicker of motion and he met eyes with someone, someone pale and stone-faced.

Then the curtains flicked back over the glass, and they were gone. 

* * *

** _You are entering Dun Family Property_ **

** _Note: Trespassers will _ ** ** _NOT_ ** ** _ be shot, come on down to the house_ **

** _for some chicken pot pie! → _ **

** _BEWARE OF DOG_ **

** _Littering is NOT tolerated_ **

** _WOLVES MAKE THEIR HOMES HERE, BE ON ALERT_ **

_ This family wack, keep away _

** _STICK to the TRAIL_ **

  * **_**_Signs posted all around the Dun family Property line, Eden, Texas, 2005_**_**

* * *

Josh hadn’t even been awake when the chaos had begun, and barely stirred as they corralled Jordan down to the basement.

Pete hoped beyond hope that would be the end, that Jordan was it, but Pete had this sinking feeling that it was still the beginning of the end.

Josh still deserved to know.

He was believably groggy when Pete shook him awake, and understandably miffed at being woken up so early, but he heard the baby crying and shook himself to awareness. “What’s going on?”

“There was a fire, the coop went up,” The rest of the story got stuck in his throat. “But… Did you seriously not hear anything?”

Josh rushed to look out the window at the smoldering remains of the chicken coop, his sisters hurrying to herd the hens and roosters. “Holy shit- I mean, I’ve just been sleeping like I’m dead lately,” He hurried to put on his shirt and slip on his sneakers, “What- How?”

Pete hesitated, licking his lips of the taste of blood. Josh looked up at him, “Pete.”

“It was Jordan,” He finally choked out, “I found him, he’d snuck out some booze and used matches.”

“So…” Josh’s expression was pained, “So he was possessed?”

Pete nodded, “They’re down in the basement, it’s blessed with magic, and fixed for lycans, so I don’t know what’s going on, but-” He stopped Josh before he could dodge past him to find his brother, “-But you can’t disrupt it, We’re pretty sure… Laura’s sure it’s him-”

“I don’t-” Josh’s eyes flashed silver, anger making him bare his teeth, “-I didn’t even know, he went through this bullshit and I didn’t even know!”

“It’s not your fault, Josh, Laura and I have had the same luck as you.”

Josh took a second to seethe, then flinched out of Pete’s hold. He shook his head, but in the end, he motioned that he agreed with Pete.

“I’ll go help them put the chickens somewhere.”

“In the shed!” Pete called after him, but he was already gone.

The rest of the family had become extremely territorial in the minutes it had taken them to learn about Jordan, save for the younger kids. They gave off palpable anxiety fueled by instinct and anger, capped off with fear and fierce protectiveness. Pete was not included in the feeling, setting the family on edge when he made an appearance downstairs to ask if Jordan was alright, or if he could help at all.

Jordan had been taken to the basement with Laura, and the Duns acted as if it was taking them a moment to process real human words. Mr. Dun, in charge, while Lee was with her son, was working to keep his cool, but it barely worked, eyes shining yellow as he spoke.

“There’s nothing you can do.”

Maybe there had been a rivalry, once, between their two races.

Something old that neither Pete or the Dun family, was old enough to remember. But before Association Law and the Hunter’s Guild, their two species might have truly been at odds. It would have been primal, battles fought on instinct alone. A hatred so deep that meeting the other would have been impossible without bloodshed. Pete could feel it, at that moment, that energy and that rush of blood, all of his senses in tune from his meal. The Duns were ready for something, anything, and if Pete wanted, he could take a swipe and set off an explosion. 

He caught his reflection in the glass of a picture frame.

Blood still lingered on his face and on his borrowed clothes, his teeth still stained red and his hair was stuck in a tangled mess, making him look even wilder than the family of lycans in front of him.

Here, he was alone. He’d been alone for a long time, against vampiric tradition, he had no brood. More than that, he was the outlier here in Eden, Texas. He’d known since his shopping trip with Mrs. Dun, they were not the only lycan family in town, it was an entire community of people that would see Jordan and see him as a reason to fight, it didn’t matter that you couldn’t exactly battle an intangible force from Hell. If he’d smelled them, they had sniffed him out too, noting his slow heartbeat, his poison blood, the sweet smell of immortality. It had been a long time since Pete had ever thought about any of that, about what he had learned a long time ago. Even if his Dogteeth made him distant family now… 

At the same time, the Dun’s were a pack, worried and distraught for their son. 

Pete put his clawed hand on Mr. Dun’s shoulder, looking into his gold eyes. “He’ll be okay, sir, Laura promised that, and I will too.”

Mr. Dun dropped his shoulders, not totally relaxed, but closer now to the idea. He nodded, “Of course.”

Halfway back up the stairs, Pete heard Jordan’s scream, agonizing and terrified. It only lasted a few seconds, but the family downstairs erupted into sharp whines, shifting into wolves that trampled the furniture and tore at the cushions.

Pete ignored it as best he could, and took a shower.

He isn’t sure how long he slept. 

But it was an incredibly long time, considering when he woke up, it was sunset. He’d slept like the dead the entire day, the blood in his stomach settling into his body, reviving him, or whatever blood did for vampires. He hoped it would last him, but knew that animal blood was only ever going to be a quick fix.

The house was quiet around him and he groaned, intending to sneak down and grab the leftovers from the dinner he had no doubt missed. His feet touched the floor and he remembered, suddenly: Jordan, the fire, the strange confrontation between him and the family.

The window to the attic.

He caught sight of the stairs as he made his way down to the kitchen, leading him back upward and tempting him into the attic.

The dinner had been roast beef, Pete could smell it, so fuck the attic for now.

Laura was nursing a cup of coffee when he arrived, sitting in the dim orange light from the stovetop and staring into space. She took a deep breath back into awareness when he entered, watching him shamelessly take the Tupperware dinner and the last of the spaghetti and shove it into one bowl and into the microwave.

“I tried to wake you up earlier,” Laura mumbled, “You were basically dead, arms crossed like a mummy and everything.” It was a joke she struggled to tell, staring into her coffee.

A couple of howls broke out from the forest and the microwave dinged.

Pete stirred the meal and explained: “I get sleepy after a meal.”

Laura frowned, “A-? Oh,” She paused, “How was it?”

Pete shrugged, and sat down across from her, “It’ll hold me.”

She blinked, “What does it…_ taste _ like?”

She was avoiding something, probably Jordan, and Pete realized he really wanted to ask, wanted to know if the scared boy from last night was finally their demon.

He gave her a blank stare, conveying this knowledge, but answered bluntly: “It tastes amazing, Laura, better than the best thing you’ve ever had.”

She took a big sip of her coffee, obviously uncomfortable, and he scarfed down his meal.

“Right,” She gulped, “I guess it would…” She set her forehead down onto the table, speaking into the wood: “I’m sure it was him.”

Pete sighed, “But you’re not sure?”

“Oh, god…” Laura groaned, holding her face in her hands. “I just want this to end.”

“I know.”

She shot him a look, then downed her coffee, “I think we should do that thing, that you suggested, on Jordan.”

Pete took a bite of his mixed spaghetti and beef. “What?”

“Influence,” She said, “To find out what he might know, I did my best after the cleansing-” She bit back sudden frown, remembering something difficult, “-But it wasn’t enough, there has to be more, buried, and maybe you could draw it out.”

Pete was trapped in his own apathy, a symptom of weariness and the sleep still clinging to his eyelids. He took a big bite and conceded: “Sure.”

Seeing Jordan in person managed to wake him up.

Laura led him down to the basement, a small storage place with shelving from IKEA and an exposed light bulb stuck to the ceiling. It wasn’t scary or dark, but Laura’s symbols and expertly placed herbs made it seem old and medieval. Jordan had been sleeping on a blowup mattress in the corner, and his family had given him the Gameboy and a few books for entertainment. They were untouched, and Jordan was using the Gameboy while it was plugged into the wall.

“Hey, Jordan,” Pete gave him a small wave.

Jordan had deep bags under his eyes, but he still managed to return a small smile, “Hey.”

“Pete has a few more questions, Jordan,” Laura stepped forward and sat on the edge of the bed, “Then in the morning, we can move you back to your room.”

Jordan’s face fell, still messing with the Gameboy, “I thought you said it wasn’t me.”

“It isn’t,” Laura insisted, “You’ll be okay, but… Pete can make sure.”

Jordan paused his game and sat up, “How?” He looked up at Pete and Pete swallowed the guilt that had rushed up to his throat. He grabbed a nearby plastic folding chair and sat close to the bed, sitting backward to lean on the back.

“It’s easy,” Pete told him, “All you have to do is listen to every word I say.”

Okay,” Jordan shifted, getting comfortable, “What else?”

Pete hesitated, shooting Laura a glance until he realized she wouldn’t meet his eye.

He turned back to Jordan and took a deep breath.

“I just…” He straightened himself, “I need you to _ look _ into my eyes.”

“Okay-” Jordan turned, and his mouth went slack. There was a pause where his entire body shifted, his posture more open, and his eyes wide. Pete was used to it, but seeing Jordan do it, knowing he was just a frightened teenager, it made him almost as uncomfortable as Laura seemed.

Jordan’s neutral expression turned into the softest of smiles.

“Hi,” He said, his voice a whisper.

“Hi, Jordan,” Pete responded.

Jordan smiled wider, “That’s my name, you know my name, that’s so cool.”

Pete ignored him, and Laura wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m going to ask you some questions, okay?”

Jordan nodded, “Sure, I’d love to answer your questions, you ask great questions, Pete, you’re so smart.”

“You remember what happened to you, right Jordan?”

Jordan nodded, never breaking eye contact, “I was possessed, and I set that coop on fire, it was terrible, and then you found me in the woods, and you helped me up and carried me inside, like a hero, it was amazing, Pete, you’re my hero-”

“Jordan,” Pete stopped him, refraining from correcting his distorted memory, he would only insist that it was the truth until Pete broke his Influence anyway. Jordan snapped back to attention, watching Pete intently. “I’m talking about _ when _ you were possessed, you told Laura that you couldn’t remember anything, but I need you to keep trying, tell us _ anything _ you can.” Jordan’s eyes flicked over Laura without recognition, which was slightly jarring, since it was well known he’d been nursing a bit of a crush.

“Sure,” Jordan nodded, “Anything.”

Pete let the breath of silence between them get sour, then indicated to Jordan that he should be talking.

“Oh! Right,” Jordan smiled, “I mean… Nothing comes to mind,” Pete leaned forward, looking Jordan in the eye and Jordan returned the look without blinking, face going almost slack, “I-” He took a breath, “I… I don’t know, I-”

“Jordan, I’m not talking about what you remember, because there’s always something deeper.” Pete pressed and Laura stood, wrapping her arms around her torso, uncomfortable.

“Right,” Jordan said, losing the admiration and falling into a soft monotone, “Always, I…” He thought for a moment, his eyes darting, “There was a… I was asleep, but then I woke up.”

“In the woods,” Pete nodded.

“No,” Jordan insisted, shaking his head, “I was… I can’t-” His face screwed as he tried to remember, “-Something was talking, these voices…” Tears sprang to Jordan’s eyes, “Screaming-”

“What did they say?” Laura chimed, her voice weak.

Jordan shook his head.

“What did they say, Jordan?” Pete echoed her.

Jordan gulped, his hands working into each other, “One said… _ Six. _”

“The number of the Beast,” Laura confirmed, but more for herself than Pete.

“And then I…” Jordan shook his head, “I-I remember-” He choked, a sob breaking through and Pete put a hand on his shoulder, securing him back into reality.

“You don’t have to say-”

Jordan grabbed his arms, frantic, “There was another, just behind it, I-” He paused, crying without sound, his face red and blotchy, “Another voice, it was so dark and cold, like I was- like I was being pushed underwater… But the second voice-”

“What did the second voice say, Jordan?” Pete asked, soft as he could.

Jordan’s voice was hoarse, falling to a whisper as he answered: “Just… It was- It said- _ in my head- _ It said something in a weird language, like grunting, and then I was falling and _ falling, and I-” _

He flailed and Pete grabbed him, forcing him to lock eyes, “Jordan! Jordan,” Jordan stilled under his gaze, _ “Sleep.” _

Laura made a quick exit as Jordan relaxed, collapsing suddenly at the command, eyelids falling and carrying him into a deep sleep. Pete got whiplash trying to focus on both of them at once but followed Laura up the stairs as quickly as he could, watching her pick at the skin on her arms. Pete reached for her shoulder as they reached the first floor, “Hey-”

Laura flinched away and Pete pulled back, listening to her heartbeat spike.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“He remembered the number of the Demon,” She dodged the question, “But that second voice, the: ‘I’m here’-”

“Like the graffiti in the barn, I saw it when I first got here.” Pete nodded.

“The demon left it’s determined host and jumped into Jordan to set fire to the coop,” She paced, “But the second voice… Something is piggybacking on the first demon, pulling it back to try and push ahead.”

“I mean,” Pete swallowed, “That doesn’t sound good.”

“No.”

She took a breath, “No it’s not.”

“So… maybe try another exorcism, one could be trying to hang on,” Pete encouraged, “Doesn’t matter if that second voice is more powerful, because you can do this-” She took a deep breath and braced her hands on both sides of her head, Pete fell silent to watch and her face turned red, tears eating at the corners of her eyes.

“Hey…” He reached again and she took a step back, still avoiding him. “Laura?”

“Yeah?” She crouched, wiped her eyes, then stood up again, “I’m fine.”

“Hey, he…” Pete motioned at the door to the basement, “He’s gonna wake up and be back to normal, the Influence, it just… It puts me on a pedestal, he didn’t actually forget you-”

“I know how Influence _ works _, Pete,” She spoke through clenched teeth.

“So what is it?” Pete frowned, “Because none of that was your fault, with him crying, his brain made him forget it because it was horrible, he’ll forget again-”

_ “God _, just-” She closed her eyes, stopping tears and trying not to cry anymore, “I don’t-”

They stood in silence.

“I have to do some more research, this was a stupid idea, we _ found _ him and I should have stopped at that,” She turned and left out the front door and into the sun.

* * *

_ “Just calling to check in! What’s your progress on Patrick? _

_ I should have warned you he was a vampire, sorry about that _

_ Laura! You know I love you, And I wouldn’t have sent him _

_ your way if I didn’t believe he was gonna be super nice and sweet _

_ the whole time. Call me back when you can, I know you don’t _

_ like to share, but I can tell when you’re feeling down, I get the vibes.” _

** _-Voicemail left by Bebe Rhexa on Laura Jane’s landline, 1:45 AM, Eden, Texas, 2005_ **

* * *

Laura Jane brought more symbols, more spells, and more wards, keeping her tone strictly businesslike. Most of it was just insurance, protecting the property and the people living on it safe while they were at a weakened state after the exorcism. Jordan was thankfully back to normal, moving back to his room and putting the rest of the family at ease.

Or calming them just enough so they could be nice to Pete again, but they all joked about it at the dinner table.

What wasn’t great was that he was getting hungry again, maybe from the stress of the last few days or all the magic in the air that made it more intense. At least Jordan seemed better, a little sore and tired, and more than hungry, but he was lighter, happier, especially since he was hogging all of his mom’s attention, not that his siblings seemed to mind.

With Laura angry with him, he spent more time with Patrick in the barn, or with Josh, just walking around the property, talking about anything that came to mind. Mostly it was demons, and possession, and Jordan, but Pete figured Josh needed to hear it.

The small window to the attic was still watching him, however, or at least that’s what it felt like.

He’d stood at the top of the steps before, contemplating invading of the Dun’s privacy and just going up the ladder to take a look around until his anxiety stopped him. He couldn’t help but ask Josh though, finally: “What’s up in the attic?” 

Josh looked up at him from his 8tracks tape deck, because of course the country boy lycan made mixtapes, and said: “Storage, I never go up there.” He yawned.

Pete nodded, “Uh-huh, need a little beauty rest?”

Josh laughed, “I don’t know, I’ve really been running on fumes lately.”

They kept talking about sleep, and dreams, and random stuff about music until Josh turned the conversation, hesitantly, back on the demon. “So you guys are seriously done looking?”

“No one’s had any dreams, and there aren’t any animals dying,” Pete said, “And Laura’s been looking at Patrick, I think he’s been recognizing me more and more, like he’s seeing me, and not just as the dude who carted his ass across the country.”

Josh hummed, “Just… what if there’s something else?”

“Like the second voice Laura heard?” Pete frowned, “It was pushed back with the other demon, Laura made sure of it.”

“Or it’s just getting comfortable until we forget about it, biding its time,” Josh shrugged, Pete shook his head, reaching out to grip his shoulder.

“Dude, it’s gone, seriously.”

Josh nodded but was obviously unconvinced. “Sure.”

After Pete ran Patrick a quick dinner, he wandered back to his room, ready for sleep.

In his dream, he saw: An endless night sky filled with stars. His hands were covered in blood, his chest heaving, gasping for air. Two cold hands grabbed his shoulders from behind, and a voice from beyond anything Pete could understand spoke

It spoke in a language long forgotten, the slight wisp of a snake’s tongue on his cheek whenever the speaker took a breath made him shiver, until his body burst into flames-

He was awake and it was dusk.

He really needed to stop sleeping the days away like this.

He met Patrick for a small dinner and expected himself to be out all night, nocturnal, just like all the sad vampires before him. Great.

“Maybe when this is over I’ll just go full Nosferatu,” He mumbled, watching Patrick rip into the leftovers, “Like the Old Tales he used to tell, go feral in some castle, forget about humanity…” His eyes flicked up, “You don’t know who _ he _ is, right, I’ll just keep that to myself.” He lay back on the blankets to look up at the barn roof. 

“Maybe there’s a spell Laura can use to make you forget about me, become Sightless again and make you think you were actually kidnapped or something… I wouldn’t want to remember this if I were you, either.”

Patrick made a small sound that almost sounded like his real voice, and Pete sat back up, looking him dead in the eye.

“Is that you?” He asked, “That made that? Like are you still you? Made to act like this? Or is it something that’s taken over? Like possession?”

Patrick’s eyes were uncharacteristically soft, but he didn’t answer.

Pete sighed, the kind of sigh that left your lungs and settled into the rest of your body.

“I’m asking those same questions.”

Laura stood in the doorway, her form outlined by the light of the night sky, stars clear behind her, unencumbered by light pollution. She motioned to the blankets, and to Patrick, who was licking the tray the food had been in.

“May I?”

Pete nodded, “Go ahead.”

Slowly, she made her way to sit across from him.

“I… wanted to apologize to you.”

Pete shook his head, “Laura-”

“No, seriously, I took out some bullshit on you that I shouldn’t have, and you were just trying to help me.”

She sighed, mimicking Pete from earlier, her shoulders hunched forward under the weight.

“I’m gonna tell you some heavy personal garbage, okay?”

Pete swallowed, “You don’t have to, I get it, the whole Influence thing-”

“Actually no, I mean I need to tell you, or I don’t think I can do my job right,” She nodded sideways to Patrick, who had finished his meal and was pacing, growling to himself, “Magic is something that needs acceptance, of everything, to work, even the rituals and alchemical parts or something will always go wrong, it’s why witches have dream discussion and yoga and shit.”

She fiddled with her rings and Pete thought about it, then nodded, “Shoot.”

Laura took in a deep breath.

“So… when I was younger, I can’t remember how old I was, but I met this vampire,” She gave him a short look, “It was after I lost my Sightlessness, and I was just starting to learn magic, but… It was going poorly, like terrible, really, nothing was right, I was on all the forums, got the newsletters, asked questions and got so much good advice, but it meant nothing.”

The wind whistled through the trees outside.

“This vampire… He was my friend, or _ supposed _ to be my friend, but he was a total cheerleader, the nicest guy I’d ever met, especially when it came to witchcraft, when everyone else thought I was crazy… He really helped me out but… None of it really mattered when it came to me, because I wasn’t letting it work.” Pete shifted and Laura picked at her fingernails, “I was still forcing myself to believe that I was who I was, that I really was a boy, that being trans was wrong and that wasn’t me because I was a straight, cis male. My magic knew that too, but it didn’t believe me and that… that _ hur _t, Pete, I felt disgusting all the time.”

“My friend, the vampire, he made this deal with me, and I loved him for it, he told me he could make that go away, make me right again.” She nodded, a bitter expression crossing her face, “All he needed was blood.”

Pete wasn’t surprised, it would have been stupid to be.

“I went along with it, I didn’t see myself having any other option, and for a while, it was great, whatever makes you stay still when you guys bite down and paired with the Influence… It made me feel powerful when it was over I like I was me again, but no one else saw it like that, my other friends told me I was different, my parents thought I was angry all the time, I thought they were all full of shit, I felt amazing.”

Pete understood, “I know what it does, the venom, it’s supposed to paralyze the unwilling, and relax the willing… Or, I mean, that’s what I’ve heard.”

Laura nodded, “Yeah, and I needed it, and the Influence, it made me believe my own lie.”

“How’d you get out?”

Laura smiled, “A girl…” She bit her lip, “There’s always a girl, right?”

Pete laughed with her.

“She was in the Guild, assigned to stop the vampire outbreak in my town, she helped me realize my friend had started taking more and more from me, I was passing out, acting like an asshole… I was an addict, through and through,” She fiddled with the loose threads of the blanket she was sitting on, “She pulled me out, put me in a Guild Therapy group… My magic was shit again, but I started getting better with her… When I started Estrogen… It was like my whole life had been meant for that moment.” She smiled, big and real, “What we had, it didn’t last, but it was good for me, we’re still friends… After all that, Influence just puts me back in that body, the one I never wanted, and I’m always afraid I’m gonna go crawling back to that, to some Vampire in those Den Bars…” She looked back up at Pete, “That scares the shit out of me.”

She asked him to forgive her, but he hadn’t been angry in the first place, so they laid out on the grass under the stars and just talked and joked for as long as Laura could stand to stay awake. The sky was beautiful in such a lonely town, its light pollution low and the stars even brighter than in Chicago.

Pete practically carried Laura back to her room, which another one of the Dun Family’s moved out children.

Something stopped him on the way back to his own room.

Call it curiosity, or a mischievous instinct.

But his feet led him up to the third floor, and the pull-down ladder.

The ceiling above him creaked, and if Pete listened hard enough, he could hear a faint heartbeat.

He’d known the first time he’d stopped on this floor. Something was living up there, and someone, possibly even the demon-possessed Jordan, had been speaking to them.

Pete glanced over his shoulder, hoping to not get caught. Then, slowly, he pulled the ladder down, wincing with every groan of the wood and metal. It settled on the floor with a final click, and Pete crawled up on all fours like an animal because he felt it might be the quietest way.

Or maybe he was full of shit.

There was no light in the attic, save the blue glow from the single window looking out onto the property. As he approached it, he could see more and more, farther into the distance, and then down onto the lawn, watching the fireflies drift across the grass. The coop was still in ruins, charred and filled with ash and warped chicken wire. But the Duns had already started laying out wood and tools, measuring for the newer and most likely improved coop. The chickens and roosters had made a home in the shed, but hopefully, it wouldn’t be for too long.

He smiled, watching Earl the cat stalk through the grass below.

The heartbeat he’d heard earlier was gone, though.

The room was almost barren, gone were any signs of life he might have expected: The bed was untouched and neatly made, trinkets and books placed high up above on shelves were dusty and ignored, and he could see the floating particles swish through the air whenever he swung his arm. There was a desk to his right, by the window, where papers and notebooks sat in disarray, but just as untouched.

Pete sighed, preparing to leave, eyeing the backyard one more time before- “Not so fast, _ bloodsucker.” _

The oldest, most ancient voice Pete had ever heard rocketed up his spine and scratched its way into his ears. His lungs contracted and his nails bit into his palms as he squeezed his fists up tight.

Out of the shadows rolled a wheelchair, and the heartbeat was back, barely hanging onto life by something less than a thread. The oldest woman Pete had ever seen was sitting there, her hair white and wispy, her face made up of cross-hatching lines and wrinkles and scars, her eyes were totally blind, one by scarring and the other through age. She looked as if she hadn’t smiled since the day she was born, which must have been almost a hundred years ago, older than Pete. 

She settled in front of him, resting her hands on her lap like a lady.

Her nails were wolfish claws, like Pete’s.

“I’ve been waiting for you to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“_ Ma’am _ ,” Pete gasped, not believing the sight in front of him, his black-blooded heart beating a mile a minute, “I’m _ so _ sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“Cut the _ crap, _” she said, growling, “There’s a demon in my house.”

“Yes, ma’am, in Jordan, he was exorcised-” Pete blinked, “Who _ are _ you?”

She scoffed, and tutted, obviously not willing to move more than a centimeter at a time in her old age, but at the same time, Pete feared her like he feared any Vampire that was older than him, as if they could tear him to shreds with one stroke. She reached forward at lightning speed, grabbing his wrist in an iron grip, and maybe he was just too freaked out, but his strength was nothing compared to hers

“I am the _ Matriarch _ , bloodsucker, and I have watched _ your _ race grow and decline for many years, while _ my pack stays firm. _”

Her eyes were empty, they stared straight through him.

“There is still a demon in my house, pale one, for longer than you and the witch, made to do what it was told,” She released his wrist, which almost felt numb. “Get _ out _ of my attic.”

“Yes ma’am,” His voice shook, and it took everything he had not simply sprint down the stairs and leap into his bed, shaking from his ordeal. Instead, the ceaseless nerves fired tremors into his slow-moving body, making his fingers shake as he tried to calmly let the ladder float back upward without a slam.

“Pete?”

Pete froze, thankful the ladder was up before he turned to see Josh, a few steps down the stairs.

He was tired, squinting up at Pete in the dim.

“Uh, hey, Josh,” Pete hurried down next to him, “What are you doing up?”

“I heard you earlier, and then you didn’t go to your room,” Josh’s voice was scratching, “What are you doing up here?”

“Nothing, I just had to check on something-” He looked up at Josh suddenly, then swallowed, “-I mean… Josh, there’s somebody up there.”

Josh blinked, “Uh, yeah, my Grandmother Orla, she doesn’t get out much… But she does make noise, was that what you were checking?”

Pete didn’t necessarily want to say that he had actually gone up and trespassed into her room, then listened to her say she believed there was still a demon amongst them because Josh seemed like the type of person that might take offense. Or at least, a loving grandson who might see the complete breach of his family’s privacy as a reason to beat his ass in full wolf form. He also didn’t mention that the last time he’d asked, Josh had denied her existence.

“I heard the floor creak, and a heartbeat.”

Josh nodded, leading the way back to their rooms, “She can be a bit creepy, she’s almost totally blind,” He glanced behind them, then dropped his voice to a whisper, “But she can hear pretty much everything in the house, and out to the woods for about a mile, but she’s great at keeping secrets.” Pete nodded, seeing the fondness in Josh’s eyes that was totally undeserved for the Crone he had seen.

“Oh,” He said simply.

Josh patted his back, “She’s the best, and we have a lot of stuff between us that I’d know she’d never tell.”

Pete frowned, standing a few feet away from his room, then turned back as Josh said: “Goodnight!”

“Yeah, good… night,” Pete’s hand was raised in a barely-there wave, and Josh was hurrying back to his room.

He smelled magic, the fizz from the hex bags and the molasses of the protection spell.

He went to bed.

* * *

_ Jordan, _

_ I can hear you playing your video games _

_ when I’m trying to sleep!! SHUT UP _

_ (pictured is a crude drawing of a stick figure with a DVD sticking out of its head) _

  * __Abby :)__

_ Abby, _

_ (pictured is a crude drawing of a penis) _

  * __JD__

  * **_**_Friendly notes between siblings, stuck to their bedroom doors with tape, Eden, Texas, 2005_**_**

* * *

The sun was setting when Pete decided to admit it: “I know you might not want to hear this, but-”

“I don’t think we did it.”

Pete stuttered, leaning back in surprise. In front of him, Laura looked slightly haggard, and he could hear her heartbeat, rapid and anxious. But that might have been his hunger, slowly creeping back after his little snack just a few days ago. 

“You don’t?”

“I-yeah, what were you gonna say?”

Pete shrugged, “About the same.”

“Well, how did you figure?”

“I met Grandma Bates last night.” Pete indicated to the attic, realizing she could probably hear their every word. Behind him, Patrick was pacing and growling at the ground.

“You met-!” Laura smacked him, “Don’t call her that! She’s one of the oldest and most respected matriarchs of this century, not some horror movie skeleton.”

“She’s still creepy as hell,” Pete spat back, “I thought she was senile, but I smelled your magic last night, it was acting up like it was working to stop something, why do _ you _ think we failed?”

“I-” Laura swallowed, “Listen, I can be hard on myself, but I swear, this was more than some inferiority complex, this was a gut feeling, _ a hunch _, Pete, I swear, what I exorcised out of Jordan was no demon, no denying it,” She sighed, “...There’s something off, something clinging to me and my magic, but that shouldn’t be possible-”

“Unless it’s something more powerful,” Pete cut in, “Something behind that smaller demon, like you said, pushing its way through.”

Laura shuddered, “Listen, I’m not an expert, but something like that, it can’t be plausible, the demon that Jordan had been summoned, invited through, but something that forces its way through?”

“Maybe they’re fighting each other, wouldn’t that make them distracted and less powerful against you?”

“Less violent maybe, easier to toy with, manipulate,” Laura shook her head, “But this is all shit we know, Pete, it’ll see anything that interferes with its push as a threat-”

“Oh, fuck,” Pete shut his eyes, “That’s how the Grandma knows.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“A few nights ago,” Pete began, “Before we knew it was Jordan, I heard talking, from her room, totally one-sided, now that I'm thinking about it, I probably thought that maybe it could’ve been Jordan, it knew that she would know it was there-”

“But it could’ve been the other demon!” Laura grabbed his arm, close to shrieking, she gasped and reached to cover her mouth, “Did you see anything else? What were they talking about?”

“Something about…” He shut his eyes, “it was getting harder to push through, then I saw some shoes, and he was saying how he wouldn’t hurt him, which I think meant the body he’s in, and how she’d done enough to help, and then when I spoke to her, she’d mentioned the demon was doing as it was told-”

Patrick suddenly roared, scraping at the ground.

“He must be feeling it too,” Laura nodded, “Look, I gotta go, there are books I need from my trailer, but I’ll be back in an hour, just…” She glanced around, “It has to know you’re onto it, it might break character and target you.”

“Well, it’d be nice if we knew who was carrying the thing.”

“I know, I know,” Laura chided, “Just give me a day, I could try my pendulum, but seriously, Pete, don’t coax it out on your own.”

Pete sat back, watching her leave, starting her truck and leading two twin headlight out of the woods. His stomach growled, even full from dinner just an hour ago.

And he might have dozed off, listening to Patrick scratch uselessly at the dirt.

But his dream was a simple and sudden stab of pain in his chest, looking up at glowing silver eyes bearing angrily down at him.

He woke with a start, “Oh shit!”

Patrick growled at him but made no attempt to get up from where was laying.

Pete’s mind raced.

“Oh shit, oh shit! Patrick!” He stood, “What if it goes after-!”

He was already tearing his way to the house, rocketing up the stairs, ready to confront the thing before it would have the chance to kill Grandma Orla. Why wouldn’t she know? Know that she’d been a damned snitch, trying to save her family.

“Pete-!” Something smelled lycan, grabbed him, “Pete stop!” 

He wrestled away, but his vision spun, he was only on the second floor-

“Pete, you’re bleeding!” the voice halted, it was a girl, Ashley, “Or- I think you’re bleeding, it’s-I don’t want to freak you out, but your blood is-is… It’s _ black.” _

Pete finally looked her in the eye, his skin damp with sweat, behind her was her father and Jordan. The lights were flickering on in their respective bedrooms, a baby was fussing downstairs, and Pete’s breathing was heavy and loose.

He looked down.

At the stab wound in his chest.

“Son…” Mr. Dun reached forward, “What happened? Who did this?” 

Pete pushed his way from Ashley’s arms and behind them, he saw the eyes, the silver eyes, peering at him from the dim. He pointed, but his hand shook and fell immediately. “The-” He gulped, “It’s still here,” He choked on words, something preventing him from speaking until he said, “The- She-It wasn’t a dream.”

He teetered back on one heel, then fell onto his back, black blood leaking out into a puddle underneath him.

Their voices blended together into one, until Josh appeared above him, smiling, “You’re gonna be okay, Pete.”

Pete coughed, “The dream-” He rasped, “Just a_ kitchen knife-” _

The rest of the family was shushing their young ones back to sleep, flicking off the lights and cooing over Pete like he was family.

“Poor dear-” Jan mumbled, and he felt a hand in his hair.

Josh never left his fading sight, which was why, before his healing factor could put all his energy into the stab wound and he passed out, he could watch as the last light flickered out, and above him, were a pair of silver eyes.

He came to slowly, hungry, to the sound of Laura’s voice. 

A spell, probably one for healing.

The first thing he did was grab her wrist, feeling her pulse beneath his clawed hands. She thankfully didn’t scream.

“We were being conned,” He mumbled, “This whole time.” Laura’s hand shook, and he released it.

“Was it the one that stabbed you?”

“Obviously as a warning, if it really wanted to kill me, there’s enough wood around here to kill an entire brood.” 

Laura’s eyes were wide, and he realized he must look like shit, pale and sickly, more vampiric, now that the Hunger was an unignorable fact. He must have slept the whole day, because he could see the sky turning pink through his window, welcoming the stars.

“He was here the entire time, like you said, it was making us trust him, the second I met him, it’s never been real-” He could smell her blood, the small scrape on her elbow and the hangnail she’d gotten yesterday, “-Oh,_ god- _ ” He pushed his palms over his eyes, “-The silver eyes, Laura- I didn’t even think of him, he’s so _ nice _ and- _ Get out!” _Laura stood, understanding what was happening, but clinging for the answer.

Pete looked around wildly, for something, anything that would calm him down, then grabbed onto Laura’s arm, “It’s _ Josh _ , _ Laura it has to be-” _ He turned away from her, hearing the blood rushing through his ears and he yelled, pressing his palms against them, he felt hot and cold all at once, his fingers spasmed and Laura shook her head, slow and unbelieving.

“Get-” He growled, then hissed, his teeth bared, _ “OUT!” _

Laura backed out, slamming the door behind her.

Pete hissed, letting the smell of blood swirl around him as he banged his head against the wall, then through the TV, his breathing heavy and sweat pouring down his face. He grabbed the flower vase before he even saw it, drinking the water like he’d lived in the desert for forty years, the flowers fell and petals stuck to his face and in his hair. Then, he held the glass vase out in front of him and smashed it against his face.

The glass shattered, cutting his face, and he crumpled to the floor in a heap of water and flowers and broken glass.

For Laura, the crash she heard from the other side of the door was a jarring final tone.

Whatever was driving this family to nightmares had enough hold to drive Pete to a Black Out.

Laura was, as she had been before, alone.

She pressed her back to the door.

“Shit.”

Josh.

For how long?

Probably as long as Jordan.

Had Jordan ever been possessed? The thought crossed her mind, maybe for a moment, just enough to make him set those fires. There had been two demons, she had said that over and over until she’d been blue in the face and now?

She paced, then whipped out her phone, glancing down the hall to listen to the dim voices of the Dun’s.

The keys beeped under her thumb.

“Laura?” The voice on the other line shuffled, it’s owner shifting the phone from hand to shoulder. “I… uh, wasn’t expecting your call,” There was a short laugh, “What’s up?”

Laura smiled, relief dotting her features, “Atom,” She swallowed, “I’m having a week.”

“Sounds like it,” Atom responded, “You wanna talk about it?”

“No, it’s… You’re busy.”

“Eh, it’s just some Goblin type hex the Guild outsourced, empty bodies and blood splatter, same old same old,” Atom paused, then said: “Just tell me.”

Truthfully, Laura had just wanted to hear her friend’s voice and talk about something mundane while the Dun family ripped itself apart with the complaints of how tired they were from lack of sleep and the vampire over her shoulder choked on its hunger. But Atom could read her like a cookbook while all of her troubles were spaced out into even proportions.

She sighed, “It’s a demon.”

“Yuck,” Atom sympathized.

“Or two,” She added, “Or one and something else, or it was never two in the first place, honestly I’m beginning to doubt pretty much everything.”

“Well, run me through it,” Atom prodded, “Start at the beginning.”

Laura sighed, and listened for a moment at the silence from Pete’s room, then ran through her story. From the Dun family to the two demons, ending on the vampire in the room behind her.

Atom paused when she said vampire.

“Are you… Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Atom,” she smiled, “He’s a great guy, he just knocked himself out with a vase to avoid Blacking Out.” 

“Pray that he stays unconscious,” he responded, “No magic can stop Hunger.” 

“Right,” She breathed, voice shaking. “So, two demons.”

“It makes sense,” Atom voiced his thoughts, “The split between our world and wherever demons like that come from is unstable, the second could have been trapped behind the first in that space.”

“Yeah it’s possible,” Laura leaned back and slowly sunk to sit on the floor, “But now I think I’m full of shit.”

Atom paused, then said: “Run me through the exorcism, back to front.”

Laura started with the technical bits, the symbols she drew and the sage she burned, “I even kicked Pete out in case he would be affected by the Latin.”

“And how was Jordan?” Atom shifted, “Before and After?”

“Before, he was scared, obviously, he’d set a fire and killed a bunch of chickens, I expected him to freak, but he started to get confused, he didn’t know where he was,” She ran him through the rest of the event, stopping every once in a while to listen to his input or express her own confusion.

Atom and she went years back, having met at a convention in Las Vegas for fans of Led Zeppelin and Witchcraft, for which the cover band sucked but the food was alright. They met over the vegetarian lasagna, which was full of celery, and they got to talking. Mostly about the lasagna, and then Witchcraft, and then their respective fields. For Laura, blood magic came easy, for Atom, it was extremely difficult, but he was a master at Summoning, and worked summers for the Guild because it came with benefits.

“Dental, mostly,” He had said, “What about you?”

“I work on a sliding scale,” She said.

“Yikes.”

“It’s not that bad, lycanthropes always need help.”

“Oh yeah, and they're supposed to be loaded.”

“With food maybe,” Laura corrected him, “It’s a small town, they’ll come after you.”

“So you’re noble?”

“Incredibly,” She smiled, and they exchanged numbers.

She wrapped up her story, and he fell silent. Laura thought she might have heard him jangling his keys as he thought. “So Pete said it was Josh,” He repeated, “But he was starting to Black Out.”

“So it could have been a fluke,” She twirled her hair in her fingers. Downstairs, she could hear some of the older members of the family having a glass of wine with the kids yelling outside, running around in bare feet. She didn’t know where Josh was. “I’m trying to be quiet, you know their ears… What if,” She closed her eyes, “And this is crazy, this whole family could be under some sort of control?”

“Possible,” Atom answered, “It could be more powerful than you thought, but if it was piggybacking off some other demon… Maybe it’s not demonic.”

Laura turned, then leaned her elbow against the wall, cupping her face before answering: “I’m not really sure what you mean.”

Atom assuaged her, “That doesn’t mean there’s nothing you can do, LJ, it could be another occult-like thing, a spirit, look at the signs, do your research, that’s the same advice you gave me.”

“I just feel totally fucking lost.” She caught her breath, and they said their goodbyes.

Pete’s words echoed in her mind.

The aunts and uncles were still talking downstairs, but she didn’t know where Mr. and Mrs. Dun were, maybe looking after Patrick and cleaning the blood from the blankets in the barn. Selfishly, she thought about how Vampire’s blood could help in some spells and gathered herself to go down and collect some to take her mind away from the stress, if even for just a moment.

What stopped her was Josh’s closed door, marked with stickers of punk band logos and sparkling shapes that were gifts from his siblings. The Beware of Dog sign had been her own contribution to the door several years ago when she’d been treating a few of the younger children for wolfsbane poisoning.

Her face twisted with sadness. He’d been so sweet, he’s _ always _ been sweet. 

If Pete was right… He’d been buried underneath… _ Something, _ struggling to get out, trapped in his own body, watching himself as _ the thing _ controlling him manipulated his family, his friends, he’d _ stabbed _Pete for reasons they couldn’t understand yet. 

Grandmother Orla could know.

Shut up in her attic, near-blind, able to hear everything for miles. When Laura had been younger, she had been suspicious of the woman’s very existence, and then when it was proven, she feared the old lady could hear her thoughts..

It was the reverence with which the family treated her that fueled these superstitions.

Now, she was assured her mind was safe but was it possible that the Thing was somehow staying hidden from Orla? Or had Pete been right? Telling her about the shoes and Louisville Ladder, was the Thing threatening her?

She took a deep breath, then stepped away from Josh’s door. She knew the parents would confront her about the stabbing, ask if it had anything to do with the possession, all questions she just couldn’t answer right now. Right now, she needed research, and she had to hope that Pete would be lucid when he woke up.

“Laura?” 

Mrs. Dun stopped her at the foot of the stairs. “How is he? Healing?”

“I’d keep an eye on him,” Laura avoided her gaze, pretending to check her pockets, “He hasn’t had any blood beside the thing he had during the fire, I-um-” She paused, but Mrs. Dun interrupted her before she could continue, saying:

“Do you think Patrick could have hurt him?” She wrung her hands, “He’s been so mellow lately, I’d hate to think he was gearing up for something like this, do you think he’s dangerous?”

Laura blinked, “N-no, no, Mrs. Dun,” The urge to confess caught her, thinking of Josh as he suffered in silence in his own mind, she frowned.

“Laura?” Mrs. Dun took a step forward, concern etched onto her face.

“Mrs. Dun, I-”

“Mom?” A voice came from the top of the stairs, stopping her cold.

“Josh?” Mrs. Dun stepped up past her, “Baby?” Laura looked up after her, her neck stiff as she made quick eye contact with Josh. He stood at the top of the stairs, hands at his sides, and he’d already changed into his loose pajamas. “Oh, honey, you don’t have to act all brave, tell me what’s wrong?”

“Just, with Pete and Jordan,” He shrugged as his mom slowly made her way up to him, “I guess I’m a little freaked out.”

“Oh, Josh…” Mrs. Dun reached out to him, “C’mere, sweetie.”

Laura watched the two of them hug, soft and as gentle as could be, and Josh buried his face into his mother’s hair, and then shifted again to rest his chin on her neck. They made eye contact again, Laura and Josh, and something cold shot through her body, down her spine and through her heart. Something close to fear and desperation, so tight and tense that her hair felt static. Involuntarily, she took a stiff step back, then down the last step to the floor, their eyes locked. 

Laura shook her head, her eyes watering.

Josh didn’t even blink, his face empty.

“Y'all have a good night now,” She called, her voice was not her own.

“Goodnight, Laura,” Mrs. Dun smiled down at her, a hand still resting on Josh’s shoulder.

Her boots made quick contact with the dewy grass, making their way to her truck without her really asking them to. She swung her keys around her finger, eyes wide and unfocused, she sat down in the driver's seat, started the car, and pulled away from the house. Absent, she turned on her headlights.

She did not blink.

The path that had been so bumpy and full of hazards when she had first brought Pete had since been cleared, with the help of some nagging from Mr. Dun to the teens, and now it was cleared and grassy. Laura shivered and fumbled with the radio.

The host of ELXR was expressing some personal views on Cartomancy, which Laura had no insight into.

She pulled the truck onto the darkened road and turned toward home. 

The yellow lines and repeating signs led the way, and her eyelids grew heavy, until she blinked, slow and wanting as the lights dimmed and the windshield became blurry. Some song came on the radio, soft and lilting. Laura thought about her pillow, the cool silk and heavy weight of her comforter, the wind chimes just barely heard through her window, and at the red light, she rested her forehead against the wheel, just for a moment.

“We don’t-” 

Laura gasped, her heart pounding at the sound of the voice, “Oh my god! What the shit!”

“Relax, we don’t have a lot of time.”

The passenger seat was taken, but for some reason, she couldn’t make out their figure, the seat appeared empty, except it wasn’t.

“Laura,” It said.

“What the_ fuck _ is going on!? What the _ fuck!” _

“Excuse my appearance,” It said, “I don’t have one.”

Breathing heavy, she clutched the crystals hanging around her neck. The light was still red, and the road was empty. “What do you want?”

“I want many things, however, right now, I only wish to put an end to both of our plights, for the sake of myself… and the Dun family.”

Laura’s grip then settled on the steering wheel, unable to look at the empty space in her passenger seat.

“Your suspicions were correct, Laura, the exorcism done on Jordan was a ruse.”

“So…” Laura swallowed, “You faked it, to drive me away? So you could keep hurting them?”

“Definitely not,” The voice said, indignant, and Laura realized it didn’t really sound like anyone. Instead, it was just, a voice, a filler, like those computer voices, but even that was an exaggeration, because even those had people behind them, while this voice simply was. “Your little wards and exorcisms wouldn’t work on me anyway,” It continued, “However, in my current state, my ability to move around was becoming more and more limited, and my fight with the real entity inside was becoming too much for a few bodies.”

Laura sat in silence, then said, “You’ve been jumping from body to body.”

“Yes,” The voice confirmed, “And what you told Joshua, about one demon being trapped? You were only half right, I haven’t had my wits about me for some time-” The voice halted, sounding strained, then returned, “How ironic.”

“Why are you here now?”

“I’ve just managed to wrestle my opponent down, your real foe, I wouldn’t lie, not when I’m in such a compromising position, but I am taking a risk by trying to contact you,” It paused, “I am sorry about the fire, but the demon would have preferred to hurt Jordan’s mother instead, I subdued it best I could.”

Laura, finally gaining control over her rapid heart rate, turned to face the emptiness, “What are you?” She asked.

“No simple demon, Laura,” It replied, “I never meant for this to happen, but I also believe I couldn’t have come at a better time, this demon could have been terrible, but I am far greater.”

It sounded confident in this fact, but without a body, the pride had nowhere to go.

“Already I have been gone too long, and it has been stewing under my thumb for months, planning its escape and the pain it will cause Joshua and his family…” It paused, “I never thought it was in my nature to care, but the boy has grown on me, being as strong as he has been through all of this-” The voice choked, and the headlights of another car cast a shadow where there was no body, _ “Allfather-!” _ It coughed, “I must return before-”

A loud horn interrupted it, the headlights shining directly into the car. Laura screamed, realizing the car was in fact moving, the red light far behind them and the steering wheel pressing into her forehead. At the last moment, she whipped the truck to the right, back into the correct lane as the semi barreled past her.

Still screaming, she pulled over, stumbled out of the truck and vomited up her last meal into the grass..

She’d been driving the entire time, completely asleep.

Her whole body shook as she glanced back into the car at the passenger seat.

Empty, for real.

* * *

_ Hey Laura, just wanted to write to you to tell you I’ve been thinking about you. _

_ I know we live in the age of technology now, but a letter is way more personal, _

_ at least according to me. I know we see each other on the regular now, but I thought _

_ since we’re not together anymore I think I should clarify what that means to me _

_ on paper before we both move on from what happened. _

_ I love you, I always will, and I want you to know that I will always be there for you as _

_ your friend. You really defined a part of my life and I hold that really close to my heart. _

_ I know you always tell me that I saved you, but you need to know you saved yourself too. _

_ You built yourself up again, without my help, and you can’t forget that. _

_ That’s all I really wanted to say, you’re a smart and talented witch, person, and woman. _

_ You got that from you. _

_ Always your friend, _

_ Hannah _

  * **_**_Personal letter from Hannah Hannoura to Laura Jane Grace, clipped to the sun visor, Eden, Texas, 2005_**_**

* * *

“That’s scary, for real, Laura, are you okay?”

Atom was on speakerphone this time, his voice echoing out into Laura’s trailer as she sat on the edge of her bed, her head in her hands. She sniffed, “Just shaken up, mostly, I’m just trying to decide if I should trust the damn thing or not.”

Atom was silent for a while, then said: “It barely gave you anything, but I think if it was malicious… It would have let you crash your car.”

“Or it didn’t even know it was distracting me,” She countered, “I just-” She sighed, “-I don’t know what to do.”

“You might not want to hear this, but I’d take that leap,” Atom said, “This could be a benevolent spirit or something-”

“Or a vengeful one, that wants me to make it more powerful by getting rid of the lesser demon.”

“Or that, yeah,” He paused, "What about that old woman? If she’s really the Matriarch and that old, and this thing has been moving between bodies because of this spirit, if the demon beats the spirit it may get trapped in the body it wins, so it wouldn’t flee to a blind old woman, it would want someone young and healthy… Like Josh,” Atom swallowed, “I think you can trust her, follow up on what Pete told you, maybe the spirit was trying to get her help when it could and that’s what he saw, either way, you're good at your job Laura, best exorcist I know.”

“Then I should go now,” Laura was nodding, “The spirit thing, whatever it was, it was strained when it spoke to me, if I have to take this chance… I’m going on the theory that it’s gonna be weak and the demon is stronger because of the effort it took to contact me.”

“Meaning the demon could have full control of Josh right now.”

Despite her saying she should go, something kept her, something that are her brain like she should already know it.

Her files caught her eye, all the newspaper clippings and obituaries, a lycan family tree going back-

“I’m so stupid,” She said, rushing forward to tear through the manila and photocopied family pictures, “I’m an_ idiot!” _

“Woah, woah, what?” Atom asked, incredulous, you’re not-”

“I completely missed it, Atom!” Sheyelled, “I’ve been looking for a messy ritual, some teenagers messing around, but I wasn’t even paying attention to the rest of it!”

“Laura, can you please just tell me I’m jumping out of my skin here,” Atom laughed, slightly breathless.

The car, Atom, the fucking car!” She finally found the article and slapped it down on the table, “It was a fluff piece on how the Dun’s bought a new car and it was supposed to be one of the first hundred sold, but in_ that _,” Laura gasped, “There’s a part where the car manufacturer was going to settle in Eden, and who the fuck do you think has the biggest plot of land in Eden?”

“The Dun’s” Atom supplied, not really following.

“The Dun’s!” Laura screeched, staring down at the ornery expression of a young Orla Dun, “But they passed up to go to the next town over for what was probably a way more expensive plot, and then after-” She breathlessly gathered a few more clippings, all obituaries, “-after _ that! Atom! _A man named Francis Dun died in an accident with some farming equipment at the Dun’s ranch, he was only 20!”

“Okay-”

“Over a decade later, Samantha Dun, only 19 years old, gets in an accident with three friends from school, their car wraps around a pole, she’s the only one that died even though she was a lycan, and then its down the line, one decade or two or even within a few years, 19 or 20, someone from the Dun’s dies, Atom, Jared Dun, 20, Lester Dun, 20, Ann Lacy, 19, Jacob Dun-”

“Someone made a deal to keep the car company away,” Atom said, barely above a whisper.

“Not someone,” Laura corrected, “Orla Mae Dun.”

“Fuck…” Atom siad, “It’s been killing of young sacrifices for years, and if it’s trying to take back control now?”

“Orla’s dying, and the deal dies with her,” Laura leaned forward onto her table, “And the Dun’s are fucked.”

“If you don’t exorcise that thing, _ now _, Laura-”

“Either Josh dies in a horrible accident before graduating, or Orla kicks the bucket and releases a caged demon,” Laura answered him,_ “Fuck.” _

Laura stood, grabbing her bag of the table and her keys off the hook while Atom continued: “Remember the Guild’s basic recommendation for exorcising a demon is the Latin standard, no matter the culture it may take on, and this spirit could try and help you, but be ready to double up on the ceremony after getting the first one-”

“Atom,” She interrupted, “I know, I was at the same seminar.”

“Well it was a good seminar,” He mumbled, “Good luck.”

Laura smoothed her hair behind her ears, tired, “Thank you, Atom, have a good night okay?”

“You call me immediately when this is over, or when you’re in the middle, I’ll send a Guild contact before you can say-”

“I’m handling it, Atom.”

The drive back was tight and almost scary, and she kept her eyes nailed to the road in front of her, never daring to let herself slip into another dream that could potentially kill her this time.

The property was dark and stretched on forever as she approached, the long winding road seeming longer and the house distorted and curved upward at impossible angles. Something in her mind was picking at the locks in her brain, moving the shadows and trying to trick her eyes.

The demon, the real one this time, no longer held back by whoever it was that contacted her earlier. Or, if that was the real demon, she had just sprung its trap.

Her wards would help her, keep it confined to the property, keep it solitary, unable to contact any of its ugly little friends. It would also be stuck in one body, latched completely to a soul without anything interfering.

Grandmother Orla would know she was here. And the demon wouldn’t see the old woman as a threat, even after its experience with her and seeing the memories in the bodies it took, she was still a blind old woman in a wheelchair.

Pete would be in there. 

Maybe he was conscious again, or maybe, hopefully, the thing from earlier knew how dangerous he was and took steps to suppress him. Maybe a long con was being played.

A light flickered on on the second floor. 

Laura sighed, and stepped up to the porch, and then inside, to the attic.

“You’re back.”

Laura released a startled breath, then turned to face the voice of Mrs. Dun, alone in her kitchen.

“Did you forget something, dear?”

“Oh, no, uh-”

“Well, then I can make you some coffee?” She raised her own mug, “I was just seeing how Patrick was doing while the husband went up to bed,” She turned to the coffeemaker before Laura could protest, “I haven’t heard a peep from Pete,” She snickered, “Peep from Pete.”

“Good,” Laura nodded, her eyes darting up the stairs then back to Mrs. Dun. “Don’t worry about the coffee Mrs. Dun, it’s okay.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, um, Mrs. Dun?” Laura took a step forward, “Is Josh still in his room?”

Mrs. Dun paused, then turned fully toward Laura, leaning back on the counter. “Where else would he be?” She glanced up at the ceiling, then back down at Laura, “Where do _ you _think he is?”

“Mrs. Dun, I don’t think this is over,” Laura spoke quietly.

“Of course not,” Mrs. Dun nodded, “Why else would you be here? Of course.” She took a moment, then set her mug down, “After what happened with Jordan, I just didn’t want to think about it, but he seemed different.”

“Josh?”

“Yes, I thought it was relief, or he was tired, something about him just isn’t there-” The house shifted and she reached out to Laura at the sound, “-I’m so sorry Laura, I should have gone to you, and here I am letting it catch up with me,” Her eyes widened, “God, did he hurt Pete?! Was that what happened?”

“Mrs. Dun,” Laura grabbed her arm back loosely, “I need to speak to Orla, can you let me do that? I need to see her, okay? Nothing is going to happen, and we’re going to be okay.” Mrs. Dun’s face screwed into a frown, but she nodded. “I’m going to see Orla, and if I can, I’m going to see Josh while he’s asleep, I can’t do this if he’s running around and going crazy, because he will try to make himself look afraid, but it’s not him, Mrs. Dun, Josh isn’t there.”

The idea that her son’s body was no longer under his control seized Mrs. Dun, and Laura had to work to steady her. She whispered quickly, and under her breath: “I need you to go to your room, alert your husband, keep the claws out, but don’t be heard, the walls have ears as long as-” The house shifted again, “-As long as that thing is in your son, it will do everything it can to stay that way, do you understand?”

Mrs. Dun’s eyes flashed gold, and she straightened, the fear replaced with animalistic determination. 

She nodded. 

“I have to make a plan of action first,” Laura said, “The longer this thing is in your son, the harder it will be to get him out.”

“I won’t stop you, Laura, I trust you.”

Laura tried to give her a quick smile, more than nervous, then nodded.

* * *

**I Love My Mommy Because:**

**She is always ther for me**

**She loves me**

**She makes relly good food**

**She puts Bandaids On**

**She kisses me!**

_ (pictured with a few child-like drawings depicting said events, as well as a rainbow) _

  * **_**_Preschool art project, signed by JOSH DUN, hung on the wall next to the refrigerator, Eden, Texas, 2005 _**_**

* * *

The two of them ascended the stairs together, slow and deliberate as the wood creaked. Laura almost couldn’t breathe, her throat tightening as her eyes adjusted to the now darkened house. Mrs. Dun squeezed her arm once more when they reached the landing and made a quick turn toward her bedroom, leaving Laura alone.

Josh’s bedroom door was still closed, but it still made her stop.

She sidestepped toward it, bracing herself against the wall and leaning in close. 

All quiet.

The wards she had built up, however, she could feel them, bowing under the weight of their purpose. She had built them to keep someone in, and they were doing that job. She could feel something behind the door, pulling at them, even while Josh’s body slept, the thing inside was watching her.

She felt it’s eyes.

Quick as she could, she stepped back and hurried up to the next floor.

The ladder squeaked a low and agonizing tone before it reached the floor, but she forced herself to rationalize that it would at least lead to Orla waking up to see her when she entered. As opposed to maybe waking up the whole family and having them hound her while Josh got lost in the fold.

“Stop there, girl,” Orla’s voice creaked deeper than the ladder, sending sharp chills down Laura’s spine. “I know what you’ll bring.”

“Ma’am-”

“That boy is trapped in his own body, and you will fix it Laura.”

Laura paused, glanced down the ladder, then made her way up into the darkness of Orla’s bedroom. “Ma’am… I just need to confirm a few things with you, I-”

“It’s true, everything, girl, is that what you needed? Or were you coming here to accuse me of making a deal for a longer life?” 

Laura could see her figure by the window, illuminated by the dark blue of the starry sky, moonlight reflected in her claws grasping the armrests of her wheelchair. Her legs hadn’t moved for years, but the last thing Laura would ever think is that she was helpless.

She kept her distance out of respect.

“He spoke to you, didn’t he? The thing inside.”

“Or the other one.”

“Who is he?” Laura took a step closer, quiet as she could, “He got to me in my car, who is he?”

Orla paused, moving her hands to her lap, “He’s supposed to be powerful, nothing else like him in our world.”

“He implied that,” Laura nodded, drawing closer to see her cloudy eyes, “But I need to know that it’s not some demon piggybacking on the one in Josh, trying to slip through, because it told me it was trying to help, but I have this habit of not believing something when I can’t see where it keeps its brain.”

Orla seemed to be staring out the window, but Laura could guess that she was listening to everything within the few surrounding miles, or to everything in the house, all of her descendants as they shifted in their sleep. Or if they were awake past their bedtime.

“The vampire is awake,” She finally said, “He depended on the healing to keep him down, since he’s had so little to feed on it would take all of his energy.”

“He’ll be hungry, then,” Laura clenched her fist, “And you still haven’t really answered my questions.”

“You will exorcise that demon today, witch,” Orla didn’t even bother to look at her, “I’ve known it since I was young, festering in my family because of my choices because I wanted this family to survive-”

“So you summoned it, I got that” Laura cut her off, “And you, what? Didn’t have the heart to tell your family why they were suffering?”

“We prospered, girl, with that damn company off of our backs, and I will ask you not to pass judgment onto me, I know what I’m paying for,” She pointed a bony finger into Laura’s chest, “I’m the last of that horrible time, and I won’t ask you for forgiveness if I can’t get off my own ass to fix it myself!”

So, a demon that stretched back generations. Laura had studied it once or twice, because that was how many actual papers there were on the subject.

“You were holding it back, weren’t you?” Laura pressed, “Until you couldn’t… You are dying, aren't you? After all this time?”

“I’ve been dying.” Orla snapped, her voice shrill with age.

“But it’s a tangible thing now, and you’re too weak, so you brought in reinforcements, like the thing in my car.”

Orla didn’t respond.

“Or you reached for whatever was there.”

Before Laura could insist on anything else, Orla said: “Joshua is such a sweet boy… I knew he’d be taken by it the second he was born, but by then I was too old to try and call the damned thing off, tell it we didn’t need it anymore… But I could keep it buried until it became too powerful… I don’t know what I summoned when I asked for help, but I’ll be damned if I let it bother me now, after what it’s told me, I’ll do my part, and you’ll save my boy.”

“Orla-”

“I’m done talkin’.”

Laura waited, in the dark of Orla’s bedroom, until she couldn’t anymore. The conversation was over, whether she liked it or not.

With her heart pounding, she left, her attention turned to Josh.

His door was open.

“Fuck,” She whispered, looking left and right, then back into the pitch black of Josh’s room.

The thing that scared her first was the fact that she might have to step foot in some teenage boy’s room. The second thing was that the teenage boy was possessed by a demon and some other unknown and powerful entity that was too weak to help her.

If_ it _really was trying to help.

“Okay,” She said, steeling herself, “If you’re in there, Josh, I’m gonna help you.”

Something that sounded like the bed shuffled, and Laura took half a step back. 

Josh’s arm extended through the dark, and turned on the lamp next to his bed, his eyes squinting in the light. “Laura?”

“Josh,” Laura took a step forward, “I need a favor, okay? Just stay calm.”

Josh didn’t even twitch, “What are you talking about? Laura, what are you doing in my room?”

The words sounded fake, now that Laura knew what she was looking for, maybe it was the intonation or the phrasing, but it just wasn’t Josh. It was something that was trying too hard to be him but not understanding its part well enough to play it convincingly. A bad soap opera actor, except this one, was sent from hell and could be manipulated into making references to The Exorcist.

And it could kill without remorse.

So.

In her pockets, Laura always kept a small vial of holy water, and around her neck, though it was more of a suspicion really, black tourmaline. Supposedly the strongest against negative energy, though she usually didn’t deal in crystals, she was a Blood Witch, not some treehugger, though the Willow outside her trailer, along with a few other herbs she was growing could falsify that claim.

She rubbed her thumb against it now, staring into Josh’s eyes as if she could see the demon’s true face through the flesh and blood it was hiding behind.

“This is going to be scary, Josh, Jordan got to have his family help with his, but that was just for the show wasn’t it? I’m going to draw it out, Josh, you just have to stay calm.”

“I don’t know what you’re _ talking _ about, Laura, just let me go back to bed and we’ll talk about this some other time-”

“No more games, Josh, it stabbed Pete, framed Jordan, no telling what else besides all of the nightmares and injuries,” She pulled out the holy water, small though it was, she thought she could see Josh flinch in the dim light. When she uncorked it, Josh squeezed his comforter so tightly his knuckles turned white, “It’s old, older than you, Josh, brought forth… a really long ass time ago by Grandmother Orla, her brothers, and their children to protect this family-”

“Laura, _ get out _ of my room-!”

“And now it’s overstayed its welcome, bringing unjust pain to this family-!” She held the bottle aloft, and flung it down saying:_ “in nomine patris-!” _

_ “Laura!” _ Josh flung his comforter away, twitching as the small sprinkle of water hit his chest, _ “Get the fuck! Out of my room!” _

There were footsteps in the hallway behind her, Mrs. Dun corralling the kids to stay in their rooms, and farther down, Pete was banging on his door, hungry.

_ “et filii-!” _Laura swung the bottle to the left and then the right.

_ “Shut _ up!” Josh put his hands to his ears, shrieking, _ “Get out!” _

_ “et spiritus sancti-” _

The room itself was shaking as she let loose the last of the water, Josh’s trinkets, and CD’s shaking and clattering off the shelves, or maybe it was the amount of commotion from the rest of the family, shaking the house's foundation as they scrambled out of their beds.

Distantly, Laura could hear Pete, slamming his shoulder against the door, begging to get out.

_ “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” _Josh was yelling, almost begging.

Laura yelled over him: “I’m addressing the entity inside!” Josh screamed, and she countered, “_ Salvatorem, _ they command you!”

In an instant, the shaking stopped, and the door slammed shut behind her, locking.

Josh stood stock still, eyes wide and empty, but angry all at once.

“Who are you?” Laura commanded, “Tell me your name.”

When he didn’t respond, Laura swallowed her nerves and stepped forward, stretching out her hand to place it on his face, “Hear my words-!”

Josh, or the thing in his body, shrieked, cracking the windows with his screams until the wind tore through, spraying shattered glass at her as she tried to bend away. Josh stood unharmed, his fingers curled like claws at his sides.

Laura stood as the room resumed its shaking, “In the name of all Holiness, I command you to leave this place!” She ripped her cross from the chain around her neck as Josh began to scream, his CD’s springing out of their cases and flinging themselves across the room at her and crashing into the wall opposite, it was all she could to dodge them “Again!_ In nomine patris! Et fill, et spiritus sancti-” _

_ “No! NO!” _ Josh raised his voice as the rest of the family gathered outside his door, pounding on the walls and on the doorknob with panicked shouts _ “No!” _

“You will release your hold on this boy and on this family!” Laura repeated the sign of the cross as Josh squeezed his head in between his hands, his legs going limp as his body left the ground, hideous snarls could be heard from his mouth as his claws grew from his fingernails, the entity shifting against Josh’s will. In response, Laura could hear his family shift alongside him, the pounding hands turning to scratching claws and whines.

“Stay back!” She yelled at them through the walls, “Stay back! _ Auferetur!” _Her whole body vibrated, and a shockwave of energy exploded from her front, and the voices behind the wall yelped in surprise. But before she could pause to try and understand what had happened-

_ “Witch!” _

Josh looked down at her, halfway to the ceiling, his head tilted loosely to the side.

_ “I have saved this family from every tragedy, I have served under the Dark Path, I do its terrible bidding-!” _

“You’re a leech!” Laura snapped back, “You kill the innocent to prevent tragedies that _ you _ cause! And I will not allow you to take this body any longer! _ In nomine patris, et filii-!” _

_ “And how will your sweet Joshua survive without me? I have been his companion from birth, and his death will bring riches!” _

Laura bared her own teeth, furious as she flung forth the cross, “I commanded you forward, and I can send you back to hell!”

_ “I have roamed the Earth longer than you have lived! Witch! Do not believe your soul is no longer damned! Tainted with blood magic-!” _

_ “Ab insidiis diaboli!” _ Laura interrupted, “ _ Libera nos, Domini!” _

Josh’s real scream pierced through the entities, a trick to make her hesitate, his fingers curling with claws and his fangs growing harshly through his bleeding gums.

_ “Vade, Satana!” _ Laura shouted, and the wall facing the outside cracked along the paint, groaning at the growing pressure. She felt her ears pop as she recited further: _ “Humiliare sub potenti manu dei! Contremisce et effuge-!” _

Josh’s eyes flashed a bright white, his back arching as the wall behind finally bowed to the pressure and exploded outward into the backyard, sending wood and insulation flying, the pipes burst, spraying freezing cold water as the entity fell to the floor, blood streaming from Josh’s nose

He was half shifted, its eyes glowing and foaming at the mouth. Josh was in there somewhere, resisting, trying to protect Laura from a demon controlled wolf, which would have sounded ridiculous had it not been for Laura’s line of work.

_ “Vade, Satana!” _ She repeated, “ _ Vade, Satana! Cessa decipere humanas creaturas!” _

_ “The god is sleeping, and you are weak!” _ The entity said, growling, _ “The old woman dies where she lives, and I will be free! You and this wretched family will bow, and I will kill all that sustains you!” _

Laura grimaced, then flung herself forward, grabbing Josh’s face and pressing the cross into his chest where it sizzled and popped in contact with his skin, _ “Exorcizamus te!” _

Josh shrieked and the bedroom door began pounding once again.

_ “Omnis immundus spiritus! Omnis satanica potestas! Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii!” _

Josh’s screams grew louder and louder, tears of blood flowed from his eyes and a harsh wind blew through the room, stinging Laura’s skin and rustling the trees.

_ “Ergo draco maledicte,” _ She shouted over the roaring wind, _ “Adjuramos te! Vade, Satanus! Invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine, quem inferi tremunt-!” _

Behind them, as Josh’s skin burned and Laura screamed, the door burst open. Pete, drooling and breathing heavy stopped at the threshold, chest heaving with every breath. He hissed, smelling the blood and the burning flesh.

Laura’s heart jumped in fear, but her voice held strong; _ “te rogamus, audi nos, benedictus deus! Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine!” _ Just in time, she stepped away, out of the path of a raving vampire, who flung himself on Josh and out of the hole in the wall to the ground below, hissing and growling. Laura flung her arms up to the sky and shouted: _ “Gloria patri!” _

* * *

_ First things first, nothing beats a classic Exorcism, it’s fast, simple, and you can brag about how good of an artist you are after you’re done ripping a demon out of some poor son of a bitch. _

_ But what if you’re caught off guard? What if some unholy piece of shit sneaks up on you and you have to use everything you can to avoid getting got? _

_ Some preppy bastard from the Guild might tell you to get away and get somewhere safe. _

_ Safe? Fuck off, I didn’t get into this shit to be safe, I did it to wield some fucking magic! _

_ What you have to do is believe in your own words, not just toss em around like some fucking flower girl with a basket. You need to put power behind your words, you need to DEMAND they listen to you, the Guild will tell you you need to recite the whole damn thing, bring in the whole kit and caboodle, listen bitch, all you need to do is do the sign of the cross, spray some holy water on the motherfucker, and say the shit you remember. _

_ Okay, backtracking, personally I recommend: _

_ libera nos, Domine _

_ Asking for freedom from whatever lives above is your best asset, but otherwise, sic the fucker. _

  * **_**_Excerpt from a defaced Guild Guide to Exorcism, signed N.R., outlining personal recommendations to exorcism, owned by Laura Jane Grace, Eden, Texas, 2005_**_**

* * *

He could smell blood.

Nevermind the screaming or yelling, or the walls between. He slammed his body through the door, splinters catching on the fabric of his clothes and in his hair, his eyes black with hunger and a hiss just barely held behind his teeth. His stomach ached like an animal was crawling up his throat, curling his fingers and standing his hair on end.

The smell was intoxicating, and as he dragged his claws along the wallpaper, all he could see was red.

The house groaned and settled around him, some small living things being pushed and pulled into rooms in his wake. They feared him and wanted to protect their children. He hissed and pounded on their doors and then moved on, too bored to continue, something was bleeding in this house for him and only him.

Someone yelled his name, and someone else grabbed him around the middle. They wrestled for a minute, as the yelling continued and doors slammed. Trading teeth and claws, Pete’s hunger driving his victory, slamming one's head into a wall and another to the floor.

He could recognize the Latin, the foul language, it drove him back, angry and hissing, swarmed by his opponents who yelled in his face, pleading, begging, for what he didn’t know. He didn’t care, except to see their blood and their beating hearts, he snarled and they snarled back as the elements struck the house and the foundation shuddered, a cool breeze shooting down the hall and into his senses.

It carried the scent of blood.

Pete hissed, and ran, frantic, to the source. Behind him, claws and fangs bit at his legs, trying to pull him back from what was his. His back curled and his ears rang, the Latin burned his skin and teeth closed around his calf, sending him to the floor, scrambling to right himself. On instinct he twisted himself back around, hissing to show his teeth and swiping back with his claws. Black eyes met a golden, animalistic sneer, pointed ears, and a dripping maw, its fur a tangled mess. It’s growl shook him to his bones, and to counter, he dug his blackened claws into its cheek. The whimper it gave almost made Pete smile and it released his leg. The blood from its face tempted him, and its family snarled as he licked it from his fingers.

Something urged him forward, against his wishes, he hissed, but he didn’t want this one.

He whipped around to face the door in front of him, dividing his time between prying it open and fighting back against his bloodied foes. So bloodied, he gasped for air just smelling them, the pushing he’d felt against the urge growing weaker and weaker-

The door finally fell under his strength, and his vision tunneled.

Its nose, mouth, and ears bled crimson, and the push was back. This was the one, past the clean flesh that chanted Latin, stinging his ears with foul words. This body reeked of rotten sulfur and salt, bleeding black and hellish alongside true blood.

It would not escape.

The mouth that spoke fled just in time, leaving his prey unguarded as it shouted into the air a final blessing. The body he’d latched onto growled, and for a moment they were flying through the air, exchanging blows and swipes at the softer parts of each other's bodies. Pete wrapped his fingers around the body’s neck, digging in with his claws, and for a second they met eyes. Each of their faces warped into the same expression: feral, blank, hungry. Teeth shone in the dim light from the moon, and they hit the ground.

The pain froze them, watching their breath cloud in the chilly air, but the blood pushed him and dug his hands into the dirt below. Almost on his stomach, he crawled forward, starving. His prey writhed and twisted where it lay, its body growing and shifting to resemble his opponents from earlier. For a second, a second too much for Pete’s growing impatience, they fought, pushing and clawing at each other. Something screamed behind them, and Pete buried his claws into the prey’s back, facing it head-on, it’s foul scent filling the air and its hot blood steaming in the cold.

In retaliation or a desperate move to free itself, his prey echoed him, digging its large claws into Pete’s back, now so evolved that he towered over Pete and meant to rest on four legs. Size and shape meant nothing to Hunger, and with a final hiss, Pete triumphed over his prey. With great strength, he pushed it to its back and buried his teeth into the meat of its shoulder, until it's growls and snarls turned to simple screams. Its body returned to its smaller and weak state, and with the venom from Pete’s fangs finding its way throughout his body, even his writhing seized, its screams turning to sighs of relief.

Pete’s grip soon loosened, his mind returning with every drink. His fingers relaxed, and one of his hands found a head and held it back by the hair, just in case the body decided to fight again. Unsure hands tried to pull him away but stopped when his movement made the body gasp or flinch. Something kept pushing him, in his mind, asking him to keep drinking, telling him that it was almost ready, just a little more…

“Pete!” 

Someone yelled, and he was aware that they were calling for him, for some reason.

“Pete!” It yelled again, hands on his shoulders, the chatter rising, “Pete! Stop! Pete-!”

The body shifted, and the chatter surged, because the body was speaking, even with a mouth in its neck.

“No…” It rasped, “Let him… We… We have a plan…”

It seemed as if the whole world had set itself on pause.

After a minute of pure silence, Pete realized who it was he was drinking from, and his lungs begged for air. His jaw was sore, and Josh groaned when Pete separated his teeth from his flesh, slick with blood and sweat. Pete gasped for air, his chin dripping red, but out of guilt, he rested his own shaking hands on Josh’s shoulders, trying to comfort him. 

Tears formed in the corners of Josh’s eyes, leaving a trail in the dust and blood that had settled on his face. He nodded, his breath shaking and his body began to shiver.

Laura hurried in close, and Josh mouthed something to her, barely heard, and then to Pete.

Maybe it was a thank you, but Pete could only guess before he was ripped away and thrown to the ground by Josh’s family. Left to digest his meal in the dewy grass and watch the fireflies drift up from the grass and up to the star. Absently, he licked his lips, tasting Josh’s blood and leftover demonic influence, souring his body with years of possession.

For a while, he didn’t move, he didn’t _ want _ to move.

Until he was the only one left outside, alone with just the stars in the sky.

He could hear Laura’s voice drift across the yard, explaining everything to the Dun’s, something about Grandmother Orla and a demonic ritual. Pete could guess the significance, he’d seen a lot.

A family falling upon hard times and turning to demons, slowly sacrificing a young member through accidents and tragic events to satisfy the demon as it protected the family over the years.

Pete finally sat up, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and standing on shaking legs and making his way to the house. On his way, he looked into the barn, where golden eyes greeted him, silent and without confrontation. 

“You’ll be back soon, Trick,” Pete told him, “We finally fixed this.”

Patrick remained silent, and Pete hobbled onto the porch. Inside, the kitchen was lit with warm light, dim and comforting, with the smallest kids falling asleep on their parent's laps as they all surrounded Josh, showering him with warmth and wrapping him in blankets.

Pete could only see this through the screen door, and as soon as he came as close as he could to be able to enter, a small pack, made up of aunts and uncles, and even Ashley, hounded him. They grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back to the railing, snarling and pressing their claws into his skin. No words necessary, and Pete didn’t have it in him to fight back.

“Guys,_ please-” _ Laura tried and was quickly shut down with a sharp bark.

Even staring into the glowing blue eyes of a lycan, out for his blackened blood, all Pete wanted to do was sleep, and he blinked lazily at every growl. It was like a food coma, he fought back a laugh, like Thanksgiving.

Something happened that made the rest of the family start to chatter nervously, urging someone to stop, and then it was Josh’s rasping voice that broke through Pete’s attackers.

“Stop… He-he helped me… guys….”

Pete’s assailants relaxed, but not out of respect to Josh's judgment, but out of surprise that he was standing, or at least, leaning against the doorframe wrapped in blankets and clutching a mug of hot chocolate, his mother close by to steady him.

“Let him in,” Josh looked to his sister specifically, “Ash, please, he did it to help me.”

Slowly, Ashley released her grip on Pete, and the rest of them followed suit, letting him make an uneasy trip into the kitchen on his own. He stopped in the doorway to face Josh, whose face was pallid and sunken, the bags under his eyes hung heavy and red. But he still smiled at Pete, full of sunshine as ever, sweet like his blood, Pete thought against his will.

“I don’t think what I did could be called helping,” Pete told him.

“It was,” Josh, insisted, sniffing, “You were.”

They sat down together at the dining table, side by side.

The family watched Josh in silence, his mother rubbing slow circles into his back. Jordan was crying, hugged by Laura, whose expression read like she was waiting for something like it wasn’t over yet. It irritated Pete, but that didn’t mean she could be wrong.

Pete turned to Josh with the same look. 

Josh returned it blankly.

“It was all in this plan,” He said, “We figured it out.”

“Josh…” Mrs. Dun squeezed his shoulder, “It’s all over, it’s okay.”

“I…” Josh looked to Laura, “You listened, that’s why it worked.”

“Sweetie, what are you talking about?” Mrs. Dun asked him.

“You were helping, Pete,” Josh said, “Making my body weak, so it wouldn’t try to return, we’ve been planning it since you came, little by little…”

“Josh,” Ashley began, spooked, “What are you talking about?”

“He’s talking about the other voice,” Laura said, “Right Josh? The thing that came to me in a dream, Orla pulled it from somewhere to help you, is it still here?”

Josh nodded, wide-eyed, “He helped me…”

Mrs. Dun looked up at her husband, “Send the children to bed.”

Almost instantly, Josh’s aunts and uncles, nephews and nieces had hurried out of the room, not daring to disobey their matriarch, even Josh’s sisters were herded from the room, and Jordan could barely complain through his sobs.

And then it was just Laura, Pete, Mrs. Dun, and Josh, who stared down at the table, unblinking.

“Thanks,” He said. “He likes his privacy.”

“You have to tell us who, Josh,” Laura said, “Who likes his privacy?”

“Him,” Josh shrugged and closed his eyes, sighing heavily.

And then, after an endless stretch of silence, save for the crickets outside, Josh said: “Me.”

Pete, startled, turned to stare at Josh, who was no longer Josh.

His eyes were silver, and he sat up straight, still under blankets but he was no longer pale. Mrs. Dun growled, ready for an attack, but whoever it was in Josh’s body just gave a tiny smile in return. Laura rushed forward, “Stop, stop stop stop! Mrs. Dun, stop, he’s not possessed.”

“How can you say that!?” Mrs. Dun growled, “Let him go you-”

“Ms. Grace is correct, Lee,” Josh’s body said, “Joshua willingly gave up his place in the driver’s seat, just now, when he closed his eyes?”

Mrs. Dun froze, twitching, Pete readied his own stance, but almost jumped in surprise when he found the black claws missing from his fingers. 

“That would have been the lycan’s blood again, Peter,” Josh’s body told him, ignoring how alert both Mrs. Dun and Laura were. “Rare things, Dogteeth, though I believe with a bit of practice-”

“You didn’t let Josh answer so now I’m asking you,” Laura interrupted, “Who the fuck are you?”

Josh’s body turned to her and smiled, different from Josh, this one was sly and knew many things that the three of them didn’t.

“Oh, you’ll never believe me,” He shifted under all the blankets and set the mug down on the table to free his hands. He took a moment to smooth Josh’s hair back, which came away clean and shiny, coiffed and curled and set perfectly. His skin was clean of all the dirt and grime from the outside, and Pete could smell subtle hints of soap. “My kind barely crosses paths with yours anymore, so I do have to thank you for having faith to follow up on everything after what I told you in the car, but I doubt you’ll be welcoming to any explanation I give you.”

“Try me.” Laura steeled her gaze against his nonchalance.

“Alright,” He shrugged without any hesitation or insistence on his previous statements, then, with a quick movement, he shrugged off the blankets.

Underneath, instead of Josh’s torn and dirty basketball shorts and t-shirt, he now wore a bespoke maroon three-piece suit and oxford shoes.

His eyes still shined silver.

“I am Loki,” He said with a smile, “The trickster, father of Jormungandr, the World Serpent.”

* * *

_ I love you now, I’ll love you later, I’ll love you forever _

_ I’ll see you when the sun sets, and I’ll miss you when it rises _

  * **_**_Note hidden in the drawer of the bedside table next Orla Dun’s bed, in the attic, Eden, Texas, 2005_**_**

* * *

“There’s no fucking way he’s telling the truth,” Laura whispered, steering Pete into the hall and leaving Mrs. Dun to sit in silence with the thing currently controlling her son’s body.

Pete looked back at it, and it promptly waved at him smiling big.

“I don’t he is, Laura,” Pete told her, “I mean, what I felt when I was under? Nothing on Earth can control Hunger, but this thing steered me away from every living body except Josh’s and he was barely even trying, and what evidence do we have against it?”

“Our own common sense?!” Laura shot back, “Literally anything, Pete, because the Norse gods don’t fucking exist?”

“And why not?” ‘Loki’ asked her from the table, “I exist right here and now, unless you’d like to have a philosophical debate, but I have no reason to deceive you, I really am the god Loki.”

“Alright, say I believe you, _ ‘Loki’ _,” Laura turned to face him, “Why would you be here? In Eden, Texas?”

“And why would you be in my son?” Mrs. Dun asked, softly.

“Simple enough,” Loki answered, “My original body, the one I use to walk on Earth, was stolen from me.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Laura snapped.

“It means what it means, Ms. Grace,” Loki nodded, “I’ve been drifting through the Egyptian Duat for months now, formless, half out of my mind, until Orla performed the ritual to broker a deal between us, free her family from the demon in exchange for freedom from the Duat.” He brushed a microscopic bit of dust from his lapels, and then continued, “Terrible place, by the way, no sense to it, I’d have better luck navigating Hel.”

“Orla?” Mrs. Dun scoffed but was silenced by her own thought process.

“Doesn’t really explain how your _ body _ was stolen,” Pete squinted as if he could try and see where Loki and Josh were separate. 

“No, I suppose not,” Loki smiled, “It is strange, I‘ll even forgive your lack of thanks for saving you from the demon,” Laura sputtered, taken aback, before Loki waved his hand at her, snorting. “Please, I’m not that full of myself, Josh has done enough thanking, I think.”

Mrs. Dun, watching Loki speak with a blank expression, suddenly reached up to touch his hair, but pulled back at the last moment to look up and behind Pete and Laura to her husband, who had come to rest in the doorway.

“Bill!” Loki cheered, “How nice of you to join us,” He stopped for a moment to stroke a hand over the wood of the dining table, “Tell me, is it true your grandfather carved this table with his own hands?”

Mr. Dun looked pale, but nodded anyway, “That’s right.”

“How admirable,” Loki said, tracing his fingernail over the grain, “It reminds me of my own careful construction, my body, the corporeal form I use, as I said, to traverse the Earth… It took me a long time to get correct you know, and of course I could change it any time, I don’t stay a man or woman or anything else for very long, but the over function for me is second to the very appearance of it, and on Earth it seems that looks are everything.” 

For a moment, it seemed as if he’d soured, and Pete could tell he was far more annoyed by the absence of his body than he was letting on. As if the boiling heat was being held back by cool nonchalance.

“Not easy to steal a body, demons would know,” The smile returned, and Loki was as uncaring as ever, “But these people managed, using an amalgamation of their own wickedness and experiments, a portal to hell it almost seemed, they tried to make a deal and I thought it was…” He thought about it for a moment, “Boring? Uninspired? Sociopathic, maybe? Let’s go with idiotic, and I once tricked the Jotunn by dressing Thor as a bride and eating their entire buffet…” He looked wistful until Laura began snapping her fingers, “Yes, yes of course, blah blah blah, something something something… Anyway, I declined their offer, there was no benefit in it anyway, but they tricked me, trapped me and dragged me into a room with another man, powerful but incredibly young, but he attempted to banish me somehow… Gods, now that I’m trying to look back on it, I barely remember a thing… But I managed to flee to the Duat, the only problem is the Duat has a strict, no body policy, but I believe it’s because Ra is so jealous of all of us since he’s stuck with the head of a bird.”

“Focus, please, so we can get this over with?” Laura kept glancing in between Josh’s parents, and Pete began to worry that they might try to force Loki’s exit from Josh on their own terms.

“Okay, whatever, skip all the boring parts,” Pete stepped forward, “What do you want now?”

Loki looked up at him, surprise, but a new smile began to slowly cut across his face. “Well, I thought it could’ve been slightly more obvious… But I’d like to see the beast.”

“Hold on a moment, before you start making demands in our son’s body,” Mrs. Dun sat up straight, affronted, “Where is he? What have you done to him?”

“I’ve done absolutely nothing, Mrs. Dun,” Loki insisted, turning between both her and her husband, “Joshua has been very capable, and I would never turn on someone so selfless,” His expression was almost shocked, but Pete couldn’t lose the feeling that it was all just a little removed. Not faked or anything, just not a very central issue in the grand scheme of things. If Loki was an immortal trickster god not bound by any earthly rules, why would the Dun family’s issues with his possession of their son’s body be any bigger issue than a simple spelling error?

Loki continued: “I’m sure you could consult Orla on the matter, though it probably wasn’t her intention to summon _ me _ specifically, in fact, why not confront her anyway? Ask why she failed to mention her decades-long deal with a demon that resulted in the deaths of a few of your young pack members? Or Laura could explain now?”

Laura shifted under the sudden attention. “I… I only strung it together like an hour ago, it’s… It’s kind of a private thing-”

“Nonsense,” Loki chided, “We know everyone’s listening, though not as easily as the woman herself, and she knows why the demon chose to try and take control now, if it hadn’t I reason the next sacrifice to keep the deal alive would have been Josh, am I correct, Orla?” He looked upward at the last statement. “But that’s not how it went, because finally the status quo was broken, and the demon saw its chance to take back its autonomy.”

The four of them sat in a resounding silence when he finished, watching him fiddle with his gold cufflinks, triumphant. “I suppose it was a very happy coincidence that I happened to be missing a body… and that Grammy Orla was adept at summoning, yes?”

Mrs. Dun braced herself against the table, staring into the wood grain.

Loki turned to Pete, “Now, the beast, may I see it?”

Pete could sense that he wasn’t exactly a key player in the mess that Loki had caused, and agreed to show him Patrick if only to escape the pressure that was building inside the house.

“He’s… he’s in the barn,” Pete gestured to the building when they exited the kitchen. The night was still clinging to the sky, meaning Pete would be safe without his umbrella for at least a few more hours.

“Of course,” Loki nodded and made pace with Pete with his hands tucked behind his back, regal and unbothered by the family drama he’d started back inside. “I also wanted to thank you for cooperating, earlier I mean, I understand the Hunger is incredibly strong, and I think even at my full power I would struggle with trying to influence as I did.”

Pete hesitated, “You were the push I felt.”

“Yes!” Loki smiled, “Very perceptive, usually, vampires in the thick of a Blackout are a bit more prone to mindlessness, but I found that you were quite alert… a technique you picked up from your patron, yes?”

Pete frowned and didn’t answer.

“Oh, that is a sensitive topic, isn’t it? It’s how you knew the term Dogteeth, among other things, but you shouldn’t worry, it’s not a bad thing Peter, it simply means you have a family history! Besides, of course, from your mother, a wonderfully brave woman, as was your father, and the lycanthropy must come from his side but not too prevalent of course,” Loki paused to take a breath, and Pete retracted his first impression, there was no way he ever would have thought that Loki, the Norse god, was a chatterbox.

“From what I saw of them in your mind, I’m fascinated, being who they were in the 1940s and ’50s, choosing each other over society and having a son? I wasn’t on Earth then, but I imagine being mixed race at the time wasn’t some walk.”

They came to the barn and Pete cycled through all the reasons Loki would have for wanting to see Patrick. When he came to no conclusions, he braced to open the door, turning to Loki and saying:

“You talk too much.”

Loki’s only answer was a coy tilt of his head, but it was immediately overshadowed with the excitement of seeing Patrick. His glowing golden eyes met Loki’s silver and he growled, pulling at the chains around his torso.

“There he is!” Loki clapped as if he was meeting his next-door neighbor's cat for the first time and not a cursed teenage boy with claws and fangs. “How fascinating!” He turned to Pete as they approached, “How did it come about?”

“Uh,” Pete stuffed his hands in his pockets, “Warlock’s curse, some dust thing, I think it was meant for me.”

“No doubt,” Loki began to examine Patrick, avoiding his claws with ease, “If it had hit you I believe both you and your friend here would be dead, as well as everyone within a mile radius.”

Pete pretended like that statement didn’t scare him.

“And the Warlock? What happened to him?”

“He’s dust,” Pete cleared his throat, “I mean he melted into dust, with some other spell.”

Loki continued to examine Patrick, making mental notes and every once in while spoke softly under his breath: “Yes, of course…” And: “I wonder…”

Pete crossed his arms.

“Did you really have to say all that crap? Back at the house?”

Loki paused, wiping what seemed like nothing off of his pristine suit, “If I hadn’t, who would have? I was thinking ahead.”

“I’m just saying you could have been a bit more sensitive.”

Loki chuckled, “I love how you talk to me, no regard for how am thousands of years older and wiser, and will live long after your kind are gone, aren’t vampires supposed to be respectful of their elders?”

Pete crossed his arms, refusing to back down and Loki huffed.

“I didn’t do it to give the Dun’s an undue amount of stress, it was more for Orla to hear than anything.” He reached across his chest with one arm to pat himself on the other, “I’m ever so slightly fond of Joshua after existing for so long in his mind, if I hadn’t interfered, he’d be dead by twenty, and so would the rest of the family, because Orla’s deal was expiring with her!” Loki’s mouth snapped shut at the last word, and he took a moment to straighten his suit while Patrick growled behind him. “I don’t like familial drama, Peter, I’ve had several lifetimes worth of it.”

Laura chose her moment to stomp into the barn, fuming at the sight of Loki, “Damn you! I had a plan to talk to them about that and you-!” She rushed forward, maybe to wrap her hands around Loki’s neck until she remembered the body he was in. She stopped abruptly, her boots scuffing on the old blankets on the ground. “I have a system, asshole, revealing family secrets is kind of a regular thing in my line of work,_ Loki _ , and you can’t- _ you can’t just _ … _ Rip a band-aid off like that-!” _

“It was getting in the way of far more important things, Ms. Grace,” Loki turned back to Patrick, “And it’s not like Orla was getting any younger, shame is for all ages.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Dun had to take their argument outside and into my truck, so they couldn’t be heard,” Laura hissed, “They locked the doors.”

“Fighting is part of a healthy relationship,” Loki countered, “They’ll figure it out and Peter and I will be long gone by then.”

Pete blinked, “Wait, what?”

“You’re not going _ anywhere _ in that body,” Laura thrust her pointer finger at him and Loki showed his palms.

“Wasn’t even planning on it,” He chuckled, “Who would I be if I just stole bodies willy-nilly? Tyr?”

The joke seemed like it would’ve been funny had Pete ever met Tyr, instead, he asked: “What do you mean we’re_ leaving? _”

Loki squared his shoulders, “Barring all other distractions at the present moment, Peter, I am prepared to offer you a deal.”

“Don’t take it,” Laura said immediately. Loki tilted his head.

“Still believe I’m a demon, Laura? Or are you just saying that? Because honestly, if you truly believe that you would have tried to exorcise me by now, or is doubt holding you back?”

Loki smiled to himself, then added: “Josh tells me you usually trust your instincts.”

Laura grit her teeth, but before she could say anything, the door clicked open, revealing Jordan standing meekly behind it.

“Jordan!” Laura snapped, “What are you doing?”

“I know,” He growled back, “Ash said and it would be a bad idea, but I had to see, mom and dad are fighting and they never do that, and Josh…” He trailed off as soon as he saw Loki. “I heard a different voice when I was listening.”

Loki nodded, “I don’t fault a curious mind, Josh is glad you’re here.”

“And you’re really the god? Loki?”

“In the flesh,” He gave a short bow, “In a manner of speaking.”

“Say I do believe you,” Laura pulled Jordan in closer like he was a small child and not a teenager that had an obvious crush on her, “Why not go to some other gods to help you? Zeus or Thor or something?”

“Must I keep repeating myself?” Loki sighed, exasperated, “I was trapped in the Duat, not Mount Olympus, it’s the only way I could escape, and Ra is not exactly helpful, especially if he’s on a crossword puzzle binge and Thor? Allfather, he couldn’t access the Duat no matter how hard he tried, I love him like a brother but his head is full of meat, your grandmother was a happy accident, Jordan, thankfully summoning me before another demon.”

“And he’s okay?” Jordan pointed at him, “In there?”

“He’s resting right now,” Loki assured him, “He’ll be tired for a while, but no one said it would be easy getting separated from a demon that’s been possessing you since you were born.”

Jordan nodded, probably still distracted by the fact that an entirely different person was using his brother’s face to speak.

“So you’re not gonna stay in Josh’s body,” Pete stepped forward, watching as Patrick sat down with a huff, choosing to ignore Loki, “And you want to make a deal, why does it involve Patrick?”

“How perceptive!” Loki joked, “But yes, you are correct, I can’t live in Josh’s body, it would be unfair to him considering he was just freed from his curse, I’ve been planning ahead since the moment I got here, hundreds of little plans, Peter, but imagine my delight when I met Patrick here and learned of the trouble you’ve been in,” He glanced at Laura, “With all due respect, but a Blood Witch cannot help you, even one so talented as Laura who knows basic demonology and black magic.” 

Laura remained silent.

Loki continued, “It’s just not the right field, Warlock’s are most often con artists, but every once in a while they do hit gold,” Loki indicated to Patrick with a tilt of his head, “Much like this one, its a real curse, I’ve seen it a few times, and thank me I have, it’s vicious and violent like you thought. Tell me has he killed anyone yet?”

Pete blinked, shocked, “Killed… _ Killed _ anyone?”

“Yes, killed anyone? Maybe a few school children, or rampaged an old folks home?”

“No?!” Pete responded, looking to Patrick still hunched with his back to Loki and the rest of them, “I kept him locked up, I fed him chips and squirrels and stuff, the only person he wants to kill is probably _ me.” _

“I’ve fed him a few times,” Jordan volunteered, “He’s never tried to kill, mostly just swipes at us and gets bored.”

“I only ask because the last time I saw anyone struck with this, I remember them going on a rampage,” Loki explained, “And with every kill they became more and more violent and powerful until their hearts gave out, which is what that Warlock was probably going for when he targeted you.”

“Oh,” Pete said.

“So you want to make a deal to fix it, and Pete will have to do something for you,” Laura cut in, “I got that, Pete, I’ll figure something out and I’ll fix him, who knows how long you’ll be his goon while he pretends to cure Patrick?”

“And who knows how long your research will last trying to cure him?” Loki answered, “Patrick will be dead long before you find anything, frankly, I can’t believe he’s not dead already, the human body can’t sustain an existence like this, even if you keep him tied to a post for the rest of his life,” Loki looked back to Pete, “What I’m offering is a win-win deal for all of us, first, I leave Joshua’s body to him, and I cure Patrick.”

“And what’ll I have to do in exchange?” Pete ignored Laura’s glare, even if she was the smarter of the two of them.

“You will retrieve my body from my attackers,” He answered, “I’ll have the curse gone by then, I’ll even put money on it.”

“Small hitch,” Pete said, “I don’t know who your attackers are, or even where to find them.”

“Oh, never mind all that,” Loki waved his hand, “I’ll get you halfway there and then you’ll practically be on top of it without my help,” He looked to Laura, “And I’ll be out of your hair, by the way, I trust Josh to answer any of your questions,” He turned back to Pete before she could respond, “It’s the best offer you’ll get, Peter, mutually beneficial, and from a real god.” He smiled.

Pete stared, looking to Patrick, to Loki, to Laura, who gave him a pleading look even though she knew he’d ignore it. “You promise to cure Patrick and while you do, I’m supposed to just… get your body back from some assholes?”

“No catch,” Loki added.

“No catch.” Pete echoed.

Loki stuck out his hand and Pete made sure to hesitate adequately before taking it into his own, avoiding Laura’s look of fear.

They shook hands and Pete half-expected their hands to glow or something, but it was all in all a completely ordinary handshake.

“Now the tricky bit,” Loki said, “Give us a moment,” he gathered himself and approached Patrick as cautiously as he could, “Wouldn’t want him lashing out and killing Joshua, now would we?”

He paused.

“Don’t give me that now, it was a simple joke,” He turned to Jordan, “Help me out will you? I need someone to hold him still.”

Jordan nodded, shooting Laura an apologetic look before grabbing a loose part of the chain. Patrick growled but didn’t respond to any farther.

Laura leaned close to Pete, “You signed a death wish, Pete, no matter what he says, either he’s under exaggerating who these people are, or he’ll just take Patrick’s body for himself and you’ll just end up with a stake in your chest and be dust at dawn.”

“What choice do I have?” Pete hissed back, “Leave him in Josh?”

“And stay with me, you know I have the room, and you’ll have time to live somewhere that isn’t a guest room or a forest floor, we’ll have time to figure this out-”

“All the time in the world, if you’re me, but he doesn’t,” Pete thrust his head at Patrick, “His face is all over the TV, his mother is scared out of her mind, he hasn’t even graduated, Laura, and you heard what Loki said, he can’t live like that, and you can’t spend the next few years trying to fix my mistake, I have to do it myself and if that means making a deal with the god of mischief? I’ll figure it out myself.”

Laura clenched her jaw, ready to respond until Jordan said: “Okay, I have him.”

Jordan had secured his hold on Patrick by wrapping his arms in the chains and restraining him with a loose chokehold around the pole he was tied to. It seemed precarious, but Pete could tell Jordan was strong, pairing his lycanthropy with metal chains didn’t hurt either. Patrick wasn’t too happy with the ordeal, however, wrestling against his restraints and growling at Loki or trying to bite at Jordan’s arms.

Pete fiddled with the hem of his jacket, wanting to comfort Patrick but also knowing Patrick would just try to bite him.

“Just get this over with, please?” He asked, “Suns on it’s way.”

“I figured his mind would simply resist me if I tried to enter the usual way,” Loki ignored his concern, “So a physical connection should be enough,” He smirked, “This will only take a moment, but I’m quite skilled at it.”

Pete and Jordan exchanged equally confused expressions.

Without fear, Loki reached up and grabbed Patrick by his face, his wrist getting dangerously close to Patrick’s foaming mouth. He tried pulling away, pushing against Jordan and scraping his feet across the ground and leaving deep burn marks in the concrete wherever he stepped.

“Easy now,” Loki scolded, grabbing the other cheek, “It’s nothing.”

Of course, the last thing Pete was expecting was Loki leaning in to _ kiss _ Patrick.

Full on the lips.

“Dear God,” Laura rolled her eyes and turned away, “I don’t even have time to understand the ethics of this.” ” 

Jordan’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline and Pete’s might have done the same.

For a moment, Patrick was still the wild animal, pushing back and trying to growl and maim Loki. And then he calmed, confused by the kiss until finally accepting it to Pete’s utter confusion. They held for just a second, eyes closed. Loki pushed forward, slight and softer than Pete could have expected and if he hadn't known any better, the two of them looked like a high school couple not daring to go any farther. It was sweet, until Loki, or Josh, by the way he was blinking with exhaustion, fell weakly to the floor.

Jordan forgot his job and ran to help him up, supporting his head and whispering to him. Josh, and it really was just Josh this time, smiled, quiet and weak, but it was him. His eyes were a warm brown, and so filled with relief it made Pete want to cry just a little.

Patrick, on the other hand, was frozen in place, his whole body twitched and squeezing together. Pete rushed forward, unwrapping the chains until Laura grabbed his arm.

“Wait!” She exclaimed, “How do we know he won’t attack?”

Pete stepped back, agreeing, but watching Patrick’s face twitch intently.

Then, not a second later, Patrick froze, squeezed his eyes shut. The chains fell loose around him without any help from Pete and when he opened his eyes, his irises were silver. His chest was puffed out, stoic and strong, until Loki deflated, gasping for air.

“Oh, Allfather-” Loki grabbed at his chest, breathing heavily, “A bit crowded in here-” He blinked furiously, scratching up and down his arms-Patrick’s arms- like a vampire on the verge of a Blackout. He reached for the pole to support himself, twitching uncomfortably until he gathered himself and squared his shoulders. Pete blinked, and Loki had changed Patrick’s clothes as he had Josh’s, this time into an equally bespoke double-breasted emerald green three-piece with golden buttons.

Pete quirked an eyebrow, wondering if he would want the one he’d left on Josh back at all.

“Excuse me,” Loki spoke in Patrick’s voice, smoothing out the lapels of his suit, “Had to make myself presentable.” He continued to fuss with the hem of the suit and adjust the buttons.

He might have been shaking.

“Well,” He finally sighed, putting on an air of relaxed nonchalance, “I felt a spark, personally.” He looked to Josh, still dressed to the nines in the red suit, “What do you think?”

Josh struggled to stand, supported by Jordan and Laura, but he huffed a laugh anyway, “Kinda scary,” He croaked.

Loki seemed to soften.

“And how are you feeling?”

Josh smiled weakly, “Better… Weird.”

“Well your body is completely your own for the first time since your birth, dear,” Loki began to turn back to Pete with an almost warm smile on his face before pausing, thinking to himself.

“Well…” He turned back to Josh, “I never do this,” He confessed shyly, “But after all this time… Josh, I owe you a debt for keeping me grounded inside your mind, even when the Duat was trying to pull me back… I offer you my blessing, Joshua, as an heir of Loki.”

Josh’s cheeks lit up red, but before he could respond, his eyes flashed silver and he fainted dead away.

“What the fuck?” Laura whipped around to face him, furious.

“Relax,” Loki chided, “Normally the word ‘blessing’ means good, happy things!”

“Is he okay?” Jordan asked, lightly slapping his brother on the cheeks.

“Oh he’ll be fine,” Loki told him, “A blessing from a god means nothing but perks, it’s where demigods come from, you know.”

Giving the sleeping Josh one last final look of thanks, he turned to Pete, “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to leave.”

“What?” Pete asked, taken aback, “Where are we going? We can’t just-”

“Josh and Laura will take care of everything,” Loki interrupted him, “I’m a god, Peter, I have things to do and we made a deal, you can give them a call later.” Pete began to back away from the fast-approaching god of mischief, sending Laura a few pleading looks that she didn’t even try to return.

“Call as soon as you can,” She said, blankly, “Assuming you live.”

Pete, mortified, began to beg, “Laura, I’m sorry, I had-”

Loki grabbed his shoulders and he froze, his whole body tingling like he had firecrackers in his muscles. His fingers curled and his hair stood on end, the chemical straightener burning against his scalp, his ears popped and his teeth vibrated, his fangs ached against his gums and pounded against his skull. When he blinked, his pupils dilated and his vision swirled with the dull colors in the barn with the shining green of Loki’s suit, or maybe his eyes had rolled back into his skull and he was hallucinating, because for a brief moment he thought he could see Loki, not through Patrick’s body, but in his true and unearthly form; Countless silver eyes and animal heads, a face so beautiful that Pete could feel every atom in his body react to it, and then it was gone, leaving a black so deep it seemed to glow from within.

His feet touched down on desert sand and his knees buckled to meet them, flattening his palms on the dusty ground as he retched, coughing up blood from his last meal.

He was crying, he could tell from the warmth on his cheeks against the cool air and the black blood dripping to the ground. He sobbed once, and collapsed to the ground for the second time in hours, staring not at the dark green grass in the Dun’s yard, but at the warm sand and scraggly bushes that he had landed in.

“Not bad for a full day of travel,” Patrick’s voice drifted softly through his head, “I could have brought us here immediately, but you’d turn to dust in the Texas sun, and that would sour our deal.”

Pete blinked, remembering: _ ‘Oh yeah, I got one of my few close friends possessed by Loki.’ _

He also noticed the stars, clear and bright, as opposed to the faded dawn light the sky had been just a moment before.

Loki had said ‘a full day of travel.’

“Yes, I took you for a swing around the globe to let the night catch up.”

Pete realized he was speaking out loud, and he rolled over on his side to try and see Loki.

Still in his suit, he wore Patrick’s face with an unbothered expression, sitting forward in a camping chair in front of a crackling fire. 

Pete could barely remember the face he had seen, but it was all he could see settled in just behind Patrick’s own.

Loki gestured to the other chair and continued, watching Pete struggle to lift himself into the seat, his legs numb and his arms shaking. “I thought a complimentary blood bag would do you well, but I’m not a stewardess.”

Pete fell into the chair, his limbs limp like water, “So no blood,” He said, breathing shallow.

“Maybe when we get into town,” Loki answered with a shrug.

“Great,” Pete said.

“I’ll let you gather your strength, and then we’ll go, I don’t want to use any more of my magic, lest Balder senses me,” Loki rolled his eyes, “I swear, he’s always picking fights, I mean you kill a man in cold blood once and it’s all he can talk about.”

“No,” Pete shook his head, “No way.”

“No?” Loki scoffed, “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t want you,” Pete said, his voice scratching and tired, “I’m done with you, I’ll honor the deal, I’ll get your body back, but I want Patrick… I want Patrick back.”

Loki sat back, blinking, “And what? Have me bury myself alongside the curse?”

“You said you’d cure him,” Pete shot back, barely seeing Loki through his blurry and tired vision, “Not that you’d use him.”

They sat in silence for what might have been an eternity.

Until Loki said: “You’re so green, Peter, so acquainted with Good and Evil, just 83 years under your belt… A child.”

Pete didn’t answer.

“I understand you, Peter, I was inside your head, and I saw enough,” Loki paused, “I wonder if I were you, would I be strong enough? To do what you do, every day? Live with the things you live with every day? You told yourself you got away, Peter, so why do the shackles still exist in your mind? Why do you still live in that attic in your mind, when was the last time you ever saw it was so long ago?”

Pete looked away, staring into the fire.

“You didn’t break, though you did crack, and that place became comforting and familiar.”

Loki tilted his head, “What humans can survive… It amazes me, Peter, what you put each other through every day…”

A log fell and sent sparks and ash up into the starry sky, trailing with the swirling smoke.

“Did you know there is no wrong answer when it comes to religion?” Loki asked, suddenly, “It’s true, in the eyes of all, all gods are created equal, there is no wrong religion, and even I have a church somewhere,” He chuckled at the thought, “But what is not equal, is the existence of Good and Evil, not the concept, but the beings, Peter, the embodiment, raw and inhuman, not even gods, but something more, omnipresent and all-knowing… They watch and their fight has lasted since matter and antimatter fought and created all of us, A Dark Path and A Guiding Light, the first victory against Evil created the Earth and the Dark Path’s blood is said to have created Daemons, the oldest and most ancient of your supernatural horde… The Dark Path won his own fight by striking down the Light and creating all Pain.”

Loki folded his hands in his lap, “But pain is meant to be endured, Peter, a notion created by the Light I suppose, without sadness and all that.” He took a moment to stoke the fire, “Loneliness is pain Peter, though you have friends in many places, you are in the Dark Path’s hold every day and yet you tell yourself that you enjoy being alone.”

Pete’s throat hitched, but he did not cry.

“I am rooting for you, Peter,” Loki stood and dusted off his hands, “I will honor your request, you will get Patrick back.”

Pete almost smiled and Loki stretched before taking his seat again.

“Though, if you ever have need of me,” He added, “You could always tell Patrick to fuck off.”

He laughed to himself, and then Patrick’s body went limp. 

Pete closed his eyes and slept, his dreams filled with swirling lights and a face beyond description.

Until a sudden weight on his shoulders shook him from unconsciousness, sending his heart racing. The moon was still high above him and the fire still crackled, but a familiar voice almost brought tears to his eyes.

“Pete!” Patrick spat angrily, “What the _ fuck did you do to me, you asshole! I’m gonna fucking rip your face off, you piece of shit! Don’t look at me like that, where the fuck are we!?” _

* * *

** _Welcome to Star Canyon, Texas! _ **

** _Here, you’ll always land among the stars!_ **

_ Bloodsuckers GO HOME! _

_ Pop. 1,056 _

  * **_**_Welcome sign to Star Canyon, Texas, defaced with red spray paint._**_**

* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
